Chapter three. 

Zack's POV.

The next morning, I wake up because of a knocking sound on the door to my room, which is given to me temporarily. 

I stretch, still sprawled on the bed, and rub my eyes. The knock comes again, and I groan, rolling off the bed as I say out loud, "I'm coming."

Before I open the door I had anticipated who will be there, and I was right, "hey, morning." I say to James, who's carrying a small tray in his hands.

He is wearing an onyx apron, plain and stained with flours. "good morning to you too," he replies me with, still standing at the other side. 

I am smiling up at him. He has a smirk on his face, his pecs pointing out from nether that yellow top he's putting on. He has such hard contours. 

"Oh, forgive my manners, please do come in." I speak with coolness. 

He chuckles lowly to himself, "Uncle is a big fan of tea, hell, he has an addiction to it. He made some this morning, and requested I bring it to you, don't you mind?"

"No, I do not." I shrug. There's absolutely nothing to mind about. 

He nods, and drops the tray down. "there's it. Come down in few minutes, breakfast is almost ready. It's dumplings." 

"I like them." And I can see the making on his apron. 

He smirks the more, "they are my favourite." Dumplings are his favourite, awesome. Mine are cupcakes, and pancakes. Those two can lure anywhere. I shall follow. 

He leaves since the conversation is ended, and I go to the bathroom. It is a simple, confined space bathroom. There is no tub, but the shower works just fine. Most times, I use showers since I always have to be hurry most mornings. 

I look at myself in the mirror, my figure being braced by the basin that my hands are on. My mahogany hair — at the top and front area, while the rear and sides are cut low, and left dark brown which is the original colour of my hair — is more curly and coiled due to sleepiness.

Green eyes are staring back at me, through the reflection. I look down to my shirtless chest, the beige skin I have is dull to my sight. My sharp features blends so matching to my straight face, making my jaw somewhat chiseled. 

Stepping into the shower space, I let the water cascade down onto my body, soothing me. Once done, I grab the white towel, and wrap it around my waist. I pick another from the same rail, and use it to dry my hair. 

I go back to the room, and take a seat on the bed. Yesterday's cloth will have to do for today as well since I did not remember bringing any clothing with me from the car. I drink the tea as I continue drying.

With my body dried, I put on the cloths, and look at myself once more in the mirror. I look okay. I open the door, look down the stairs and climb down. 

Mr. West is the first person I'll see when I get down, sitting at the dining room, his usual place. I smile when he realizes my presence, and come to sit beside him.

"Zack, you did sleep well?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. West." He chortles at my chosen words.

"Did that tall soldier bring you the tea I made?" He ask, and I nod, making him calm. "James is in the kitchen as we speak, he's making the dumplings. I didn't know he can."

I laugh abreast Mr. West, "why won't you cook today?"

"I got injured," with that being heard, my eyes shift down to his palm, where there's a bandage wrapped around it. It is disheartening, seeing someone who cares for you hurt. I feel bad Instantly. 

"What happened?" 

The door creaks open, James figure expunges out. He comes in with the same set of wide tray as yesterday's night, but this time around, I take a stand and help him. 

My hand brushes against his, and he smiles down at me, "thanks." 

"I thought you don't really like that word." He was reprimanding all yesterday for saying that.

"Maybe I changed."

"Hmm. Explains why you'd come visit me in the bedroom." I blurt out already before pulling myself together. I hadn't think before saying it. 

He raises his brows, also understanding the sense of what I meant deep down. I feel flustered, and embarrassed to say such thing without even thinking. I'm over-thinking. He just came, nothing else involved. Even his eyes can tell it all that he just came, I assume.

"You are something," is all he whispers, lingering close my ears, before he retreat so he can sit down at the right side to his Uncle, meaning I have to take the left side. 

We sit in silence, as once in a while my eyes will shift across the table to James, and everytime he'd caught me.

He passes me the dish and I pick the amount of dumplings I'd like to have, there's a cup of tea he's pouring for me in the meantime. A ghosty smirk is on my face when he lands it beside my hand, on the table. 

"Thanks,"

His eyes flare, "don't we both declared hating that word?" His talk brings back the lightness, the feeling-all-bubbly-on-the-inside, heart-in-mouth moment. 

I nod, "and yet we both failed to accustom to it."

He agrees with a very firm nod, his head knocking down. Mr. West is in between us, watching, his eyes darting from his right to his left, and back, and again. What is he thinking? And how come it's just now I notices him observing us? He can't think, or perhaps already know that I'm...not straight. Wait...if he's watching us with those calculating eyes, that could mean that James isn't so straight as I thought, or it could all be me, just over-thinking once again as I ever do.

"Cut it out, uncle." Thank goodness James decided to chime in. I'm getting unnerved by Mr. West's careful brown eyes that looks like black when indoor. 

"Okay," state Mr. West, simply. A minute or so passes before he adds, "tell us about you, Zack." James' eyes perks up at me, his head down but his eyes roved up.

"Well, I'm a writer. I came from New York originally, and then, was offered an interview by one of the biggest publishing company in Los Angeles, Blank-Script. I was on my way there, meant to pass by Ohio City to Los Angeles when my car broke down along the way, and James came by." I stopped, but then it clicks and I pin, "I have a cousin in Los. I was going to stay at her place." That's all, that's it.

Mr. West hums away into his own world of cloud nine. He comes back down to planet Earth, and scoff a laugh. "it's fine by us if you'll be staying longer, or shorter, it's your choice. Just send your cousin a message, so she can help you out, and you don't get to miss the interview." He was going to stop there, but then, I think he feels the need to continue. "Actually, I would have asked James to drive you there instead of your cousin coming here to pick you, but the vehicles here are not just for individual us, but the whole community's. It will take days to get all warranty before we can use it." His explanation is well understood. The policy here seems funny by the way. 

"You need not worry, Mr. West. Taking me in for the meantime is more than I could ask for. I appreciate it." As I mention, he snort, his orbs changing gear to James. 

"You should talk some talk into our guest for him to stop acting all grateful." 

"Trust me, I'm working on it." James tone is low, very low, husky in a sense, dangerously low. I feel shy to look him in the eye. Oh boy, I am whipped. Intensely whipped in the ass such that I can barely stand. This is what my subconscious calls The spank. Yeah, he's so much naughtier than I am even though he doesn't show it.