10. Food for Thought

BPOV

"Edward, if you don't stop that right now, I'm gonna… I'm gonna..."

"You're gonna what?" He smirked. Bastard.

An idea formed in my head and I smiled wickedly. "I'm gonna do this."

"Uhh… Bella!" He cried.

I laughed. We were in the bath tub, just relaxing our sore muscles. Correction. My sore muscles. After being fucked by Edward 3.2 million times in the last two days (at least that's what it felt like… he insists it's much lesser), I went on a strike. He decided a bath would relax me, and it would be much more fun to do it together. Well, it was fun, as long as he kept his hands to himself. I had to keep patting his hands away from my womanly parts, to let them have some breathing space.

Of course, he wouldn't listen. That's one thing I learned about him. He was surprisingly persistent and rebellious when it came down to things he wanted. Like just then, he grazed my nipples with his hands, and I decided to teach him a lesson. I poured my entire bottle of strawberry shampoo on his head. And that's another thing I learnt about him. He hates, no detests my strawberry shampoo. Yesterday after I came out of the shower, he droned on and on about how fruit should be eaten, not bathed in. I had to untie my robe to shut him up.

"Uhh… this stuff would never come out of my hair!"

"Please tell me you're not one of those guys who are forever obsessed with their hair."

"Well, what do you expect? I don't want to go around smelling like Malibu Barbie!"

"Do I smell like Malibu Barbie? Do you think I'm one of those Barbie girls?" I asked him with my eyebrow raised.

"What? No… no, of course not. You smell like… Bella." I continued staring at him. "And that's good… I mean it in a good way… stop it with the eyebrow!"

I laughed and turned myself around. "Here, I'll wash it off."

I removed the excess shampoo and began to lather his hair. It was really soft, too soft. Guys shouldn't be allowed to have such soft hair. Now that it was wet, it had turned into a dark shade, almost brown. Even though it was all lathered up, I continued to run my hands through it. I didn't want to stop. Edward hummed in satisfaction.

It was only now that I had the chance to just observe his face this closely. I noticed that he had long eye lashes, and high cheekbones. He was a pretty boy. If one really wanted to point out a fault, that would be his ears. They were really funny, especially his ear lobes. I laughed at my observation.

"What's so funny?"

"Your ears," I replied smiling.

"What about them?"

"Just them. Okay now, shush and close your eyes. Let me finish my job."

He narrowed his eyes and smiled, but obediently closed them. I took the shower head and slowly cleansed him out. I took my time with it and by the time I was done, the bath water had turned tepid.

"All done."

He slowly opened his eyes and looked at me. Strangely, even though I wasn't cold, I shivered.

"Shall we get out?" He asked.

I nodded and pulled myself a towel.

"So, what do you wanna do tonight? And that doesn't include me," I added, knowing that he would come up with a suggestive answer.

"Well, since you insist on taking all the fun out, everything else is the same."

"Very clever. We can watch a movie if you want. But first, let's get some take-out. I'm starving. Bath does always make one hungry, doesn't it?"

"Well, I know only one thing that makes me really hungry…"

"Edward," I admonished.

"Alright, alright. I'm sick of take-outs. How about some home cooking? A nice little dinner."

"That's a wonderful idea and would be great…"

"Great!"

"…if only I knew how to cook."

"You don't? That's alright. I can whip something up."

"You cook?" I was shocked.

He shrugged and nodded.

"You cook?"

"Yes," he answered slowly, as if it would make me understand better.

"Are you trying to tell me that Edward Cuilinn, prince of Darfur-"

"Darvour."

"-Darvour, knows how to cook?"

"Hey, no need to drag the family name into this," he said laughing. "Why is it so surprising?"

"How can it not be?" I asked, flailing my arms around to stress my point. "Edward Cuilinn, prince of Derwoor knows how to-"

"Ohkay! I see you can go all night like this. Come, we'll go to the grocery store," he said, dragging me to the door.

"Wait! Should Edward Cuilinn, Prince of Derfour, be even going to a grocery store?"

He stopped. "Thanks for reminding me. I just need to stick these on and I'm good to go." He pulled out the fake moustache and beard and the dirty old baseball cap he was wearing two days ago.

After he promised to come by on the weekend, I was sure he would bail again. But, surprisingly, he was there by Friday evening. He was waiting on the steps of my apartment, and I passed by not recognizing him. He grabbed me from behind and I screamed bloody murder. Doubling up in laughter, he peeled of his camouflage and told me that he usually traveled in that disguise in public, under the name of Tony Masen. Of course, all this was revealed after he received a good kick in the shins for scaring the living daylights out of me.

"Shall we, Tony?" I asked, extending my hand, after he had transformed himself.

"Please," he replied, smiling.

Watching Edward grocery shop was surreal. It was so strange that something as simple as grocery shopping could bring so much of difference in a person.

He was… excited. Actually, more than excited. He was euphoric. Apparently, he hadn't had the chance to cook since he was a teenager. And this was his first time grocery shopping. And half the fun in cooking was supposed to be in shopping for it – his words, not mine. It was like letting a kid loose in Disney World. It had been more than an hour, we had done eight rounds of the store, and he still wasn't finished.

"God, there are so many different brands to choose from," I heard him muttering. "Bella! There you are. Which one should we take?" He asked, holding two boxes of pasta.

"I don't know. That one?" I replied, pointing randomly.

He hummed and started mulling it over. I felt as if my eyes were going to permanently stick to the back of my head, from rolling so many times during the last hour.

"Are you done?" If he took any more time, I was ready to dump him and bolt.

"Alright," he said picking a box, "all done. Just need to get the billing done."

I looked at our cart and my eyes popped out of my head.

"Are you freaking crazy? Who needs all that stuff for one dinner?"

He appeared not to listen and shoved another box in my face. "Do you think this one would be good enough?"

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Edward, if you don't stop shopping right now, so help me god, I will-"

"Alright, alright. I'm done."

Forty fucking minutes later, we were carrying our purchases and walking towards my apartment.

I watched as Edward cooked. I tried to help him, but he shooed me out and now I was stuck on the dining table, watching as he opened jars and boxes and stirred and fried. Still, it was so refreshing to see someone actually use my kitchen.

"Do you know, you're the first person to use my kitchen? You're literally deflowering it."

"I seemed to be doing that a lot around here."

"Edward!" I exclaimed and threw and apple at him.

Catching it he replied, "Hey! No throwing things in the kitchen. Magic is happening here."

"Where did you learn to cook?"

"From our royal cook. I used to sneak into the kitchens regularly. It helped me get away from all the craziness."

"The craziness of being a prince?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you have to sneak into the kitchens? It's your palace, right?"

"Yes, but we aren't allowed in all the rooms."

"What? That's just crazy. What's the whole point of having a palace if you don't even have the freedom to roam in it?"

Edward laughed humorlessly. "That's the whole crux of being a royal, Bella. No freedom."

"That just plain sucks."

He laughed. "Yes, it does."

The doorbell rang and I hopped down to open it. It was the bane of my existence.

"Hey, Bella."

"Mike! Hi. What's up?"

"Nothing, I had an idea today. We can't go out coz you're so busy with work, right? Since today is Sunday, I thought maybe we could just rent a movie and get some take-out. There's a great Indonesian place a few blocks away that serves the best-"

There was a loud banging as Edward dropped a pan. I turned at the noise.

Mike immediately tried to wedge himself in the door to get a look at what was happening inside. "Are you with someone right now? Is it Rosalie?"

"No, Mike. It's not Rosalie," I stated, pulling the door closer to my body, "and I'm sorry, but I can't come over tonight. Or anytime soon."

"Really? Is it a guy?" He asked trying to look past my door.

"No, it's not a guy. I just… I have family visiting."

"Oh… okay. I'll try again next week, then. Take care, poodle," he said patting my shoulder and left.

I closed the door and sighed in relief.

"Poodle?"

I turned to see Edward look at me with an eyebrow raised and an amused look on his face.

"It's a thing he does," I told him, disgusted. "He thinks that treating me like a cute puppy will land me in his bed."

He nodded and turned back to stir something on the stove. "So, what will?"

"Hmm?"

"Land you in his bed?"

"Oh! Gross! Nothing. Even if he were the last guy on earth, I wouldn't touch him with a stick. If it weren't for rent-control, I would've moved long ago, just to get rid of him."

He laughed. "So, you've never had any boyfriends over the years?"

I shook my head.

"How is that possible?"

I shrugged. "I was in Forks till I was fourteen. After I moved to the city, there were plenty of guys, and I kissed a couple but never went more than that. I even had a boyfriend for a few weeks during my second year in college, but, it just never felt right."

"And you decided it felt right with a random stranger?"

I knew we were back at a sensitive issue and I didn't want a repeat of last time. Anyway, I myself didn't know why I decided to go all the way with him. So, I replied, "Maybe, I decided I had waited enough."

He nodded, lost in thought.

"Say, how long is this surprise dish of yours going to take. You've been cooking long enough."

"Just give me ten more minutes."

Ten precise minutes later, he placed a covered dish on the table.

"It's been years. If you don't like it, then, we can order some take out," he said, nervously.

"You think?" I asked, dryly.

"Sure," he nodded, solemnly.

"God, you're so dramatic," I said, rolling my eyes. "Well, open it! Let the show begin."

He uncovered the dish. It was ravioli.

I got a flashback. Me and mom sitting at the dining table at our home in Forks. "Bella, honey. There's something I need to tell you." I remembered puking my guts out the rest of the evening. Three years later, mom served it again at dinner. I put two morsels in my mouth and spent the rest of the evening in the bathroom. Two years later, we were at a brunch arranged hosted by Charlotte's parents. I dared myself to eat it, and repented the rest of the day. That day I vowed to never touch ravioli again in my life.

"Bella? What's wrong?"

I looked up at a concerned Edward's face. "What?"

"You just zoned out there for a minute."

"Oh, nothing. Ravioli?"

"Yes, stuffed with mushrooms."

"You don't say?" I asked, with trepidation.

"What's the matter? Not a fan?"

"Nope," I replied, honestly, "can't say that I am."

He looked crestfallen. "Oh! I'm sorry. I should have asked you. Let's just order take-out."

I looked around the kitchen and then at his sad face. He had worked so hard at it, I thought. And he was so excited earlier while shopping. I resolved to at least try the damned thing.

"No. I was kidding. I love ravioli, especially mushroom," I said, with clenched teeth.

"Are you sure?"

I bobbed my head up and down.

"Okay, dig in."

I took a fork and tentatively poked at the pasta.

"Bella, I'm not that horrid a cook. It's edible."

I smiled at him and put a piece in my mouth. He was right, it was edible. In fact, it was delicious.

Edward looked for a reaction. "Well?"

I chewed slowly and swallowed. "It's amazing. You're an awesome cook. I'd vote for you."

And just like that, a million-watt smile came upon his face. He beamed with pride. I couldn't bear to throw up in his happy face and decided to stomach it all down.

I soldiered through half of my plate, before I could take it no more. Each time I gulped a morsel, I felt as if a piece of rubber was sliding down my throat. And now, it seemed to be floating around my intestines. I could feel the bile in my throat, just waiting to jump outwards. Hopelessly, I fought against it, trying to hold it down.

"Is everything okay?"

I put my fork down and gave him a thumbs-up. Fearing an eruption, I didn't open my mouth.

"Bella, seriously, you look like you're gonna throw up."

My emotions always did show well on my face, I thought. Finally, I could take it no longer and I ran to the bathroom.

Initially, Edward banged on the door, asking me to let him in. When I didn't reply, he became quiet and I knew he left. Of course, he would. I burst his bubble of happiness right in his face. I hated myself for not getting over the past. Why couldn't I be normal?

After drowning in my pity party for some time, I got up and opened the door. He was sitting on the bed.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded in shock.

"Why wouldn't you let me in? Here, take this. You'll be alright." He held put some pills.

"Did you run down to the pharmacy now?"

"Yes."

"What are you still doing here?"

He blinked. "You want me to leave?"

"No," I said, quickly, "I mean. I thought you already left."

"You think I would leave you in this condition. What kind of man do you think I am?"

I looked at the pills in my hand. He held out a glass of water and I took it gratefully. After swallowing the pills, I sat beside him.

"Thank you, for that. You don't have to stay here and do this. I'm sure none of your other girlfriends got sick this… I mean… fuck buddies, or whatever."

"Yes, they didn't get sick like this because they never had to eat my cooking. I'm so sorry about that. You could have just told me the truth. Why did you have to lie?"

"I didn't lie. It was really fantastic. Top-notch. It's just that, I can't stomach ravioli. It's been a thing since my childhood."

He looked puzzled. "Really?"

"Yeah. My mom told me over a plate of mushroom ravioli that she was divorcing my dad. And I puked the entire thing out in revulsion. I've just...I've never been able to eat it since then."

"Why didn't you just tell me that? I would've understood."

I looked at him, all sad and guilty. "That's coz I wanted to avoid this face," I said tapping his nose.

A strange emotion crossed his eyes. "Come here," he demanded and crushed me to himself.

"Okay, not so hard!" I cried in a muffled voice, "I can feel another round coming up."

He released me quickly. "I'm sorry. Why don't you lie down?"

I raised my eyebrows at him and he answered, "And I mean, just lie down."

"Are you sure?"

"Please, I'm not an addicted pervert."

"Really?"

"Bella!"

I laughed. "Kidding."

"So, do you wanna talk about it?"

"About your perversion?" I asked, quickly.

He exhaled in frustration. "Cut it out. I'm serious. Tell me," he commanded.

"You'd be soo bored, you'll keel over and die," I said lying down on my side.

Propping himself on his elbow, he asked, "Why don't you try me?"

"Why do you want to know? I thought we were following some rules here."

He seemed to be in war with himself for a moment before stating, "Yes, we are. Although, knowing one small thing won't be breaking the rules. It's really inconsequential. Besides, I'll learn how not to give you food poisoning the next time."

I laughed weakly. "Okay."

So, then I told him my story. Of course, one story lead to another question, and then another, and before we knew it, I was telling him my entire life history - about Forks, New York, Charlie, mom… and Jacob.

"So after that guy dumped you, you moved to New York?"

"No! He didn't dump me. We were always just friends. People around us wanted us to hook up, hell… half of them already thought we did. Anyway, he was two years older than me, so he graduated and geared up for college. I was devastated that my only friend was leaving me alone in Forks. Especially, since I needed him to be there, what with things being ugly at home and all... Anyway, we had a big fight before he left and… well, things have never been the same since."

"You don't talk to him anymore?"

"Sometimes. He calls up occasionally, like on birthdays and stuff."

"Hmm…" Edward said nodding, and laid down on his back. We were silent for a while, when he asked suddenly, "Do you miss him?"

I was taken aback by his question and looked at him. "I… umm… I… I do," I acquiesced, exhaling.

"Then why aren't you with him right now? It sounds like you were pretty thick."

I was getting irritated now. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? We were friends. I miss him as a friend."

"Okay, okay. I get it. But still, why don't you try and patch up after all these years, when you're both living in the same city?"

I exhaled. "It's not that simple. He has a real problem with my friends and my life here. He thinks I've sold out my soul to become a 'socialite/party girl'," I noted, using my fingers to put air-quotes, "And he severed all ties with me on my birthday last month. So, I don't see any chance of reconciliation anyhow."

"What? He's a dick!"

I turned to look at Edward and smiled half-heartedly, "Yeah… well."

Shaking his head he muttered something to himself.

"Anyway… so, that's story. A really tiny one. Totally inconsequential," I laughed, "and its seems like it only took about two hours to tell it."

"Very useful," he replied, grinning, "I'll keep all of this in mind when ordering take-out tomorrow."

"Aww.. I liked your cooking." He gave me a pointed look. "Ok, well… I did, my stomach didn't. There's a difference."

"Yes, well. I think you should probably go to sleep before round fifteen begins," he remarked, dryly.

"I'm serious. You are an amazing cook. You should definitely do it more often. It brings out a whole new person in you. It was nice seeing you be excited about something other than sex," I teased, grinning.

He laughed. "I was a bit over excited, wasn't I? It's just that… I haven't cooked for someone in the longest time. In all these years, I never had the opportunity or people to do that."

"Well, don't worry. You can cook for me any old time. Breakfast, lunch, dinner… anything you want. If it means that much to you, I can hire you as my chef. Just not mushroom ravioli. Or, any ravioli for that matter."

He smiled and kissed me on my forehead. "Sleep well."

And surprisingly, I did.

Author's Note:- I had this chapter sitting in my folder for the longest time… two and a half months to be exact. It was done wayyy before the previous one. Note to self – work on writing systematically. Maybe, that'll help to get the chapters out more often and regularly.

Anyway, the next chapter is kinda a big one and I haven't even started work on it yet. But, yes, you guessed it right. Chapter 12 is already up and running :D So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that it's gonna take a little while, but the next update will come soon…

Thank you all for your lovely comments. I haven't seen any negatives in them yet. So, I'd like to remind you guys that you can leave any which comment you want. I'm not a bitch when it comes to reading reviews. I do read every one with a view to learn something and appreciate any kind of feedback. Some reviewers were surprised to see such low number of reviews for this story. Well, what can I say to that, except… Kindly read and review :-)