The Twisted Obsession-Chapter 239: Cooking

Remo’s stomach rumbled in response, more from the mention of food than from any agreement on his part. "That sounds perfect," he conceded, following her into the kitchen.

As Abby filled a large pot with water and set it on the stove, Remo awkwardly stood by, unsure of how to assist. "What can I do to help?" he asked, his eagerness tinged with hesitation.

"Here, you can start by cutting the bacon," Abby suggested, handing him a knife and a cutting board along with a pack of bacon.

Remo eyed the knife with a comical wariness. "Uh, sure." He unwrapped the bacon and began to cut, his slices uneven and haphazard. Bacon pieces of varying thicknesses lay scattered on the board.

Abby glanced over, biting back a smile. "Maybe try to keep them all about the same size?" she gently coached, suppressing a chuckle.

"Right, uniformity," Remo nodded seriously, giving it another go with slightly better results.

Meanwhile, Abby minced garlic and grated cheese, shaking her head as bacon bits flew somewhat comically off Remo’s board. "You’re getting there," she encouraged, her tone light and teasing.

"I’m a better killer than chef," Remo joked, looking relieved when Abby took over the skillet to cook the bacon.

"Clearly," Abby laughed, adding the bacon to the pan. "Can you beat the eggs in this bowl?" she asked, handing him a bowl and a fork.

Remo took the bowl and began whisking the eggs with an overly vigorous motion, causing some of the mixture to splatter onto the counter—and onto Abby.

"Remo!" Abby exclaimed, looking down at her now egg-spotted shirt.

"Sorry!" Remo said, though he couldn’t help but laugh, seeing egg in Abby’s hair. "I might have gotten a bit carried away."

Abby wiped her face with a dish towel, her mock stern look dissolving into laughter. "Just a bit."

Despite the messy process, they managed to cook the bacon to the perfect crispness, and Abby skillfully combined it with the pasta, pouring in the eggs and cheese while Remo mixed under her watchful eye, careful to keep everything in the pan this time.

They sat down to eat, the kitchen in slight disarray, but both warmed by the laughter and teamwork. "Well, it turned out perfect, despite the chef," Abby teased, twirling pasta onto her fork.

"Thanks to the sous-chef," Remo quipped, happy to be sharing this simple moment of chaos and connection.

Remo took a cautious bite of the spaghetti carbonara, his eyes lighting up in approval. "This is really good, despite the chaotic cooking process," he complimented, his tone playful.

Abby grinned, pleased. "Told you." She watched him eat with an amused expression, noting the sauce at the corner of his mouth. "You’ve got a little something..." She reached across the table, her thumb gently wiping away the sauce from his lip.

"Thanks," Remo mumbled. He returned the gesture by pointing at her cheek. "You too, right there."

Laughing, Abby wiped her cheek with a napkin. "We’re a mess, aren’t we?" she said, shaking her head in mock despair.

"The best kind of mess," Remo replied warmly. He stretched out his leg under the table, gently nudging hers. Their playful footsie quickly turned into a silly game of tag, their feet chasing and retreating in a quiet dance.

Finishing their meals, Remo collected the plates and brought them to the sink, insisting on taking care of the cleanup. Abby leaned against the counter, watching him tackle the dishes with the same exaggerated care he had taken with the bacon.

"You know, I think you’ve improved tonight," Abby teased, "from disastrous to mildly hazardous in the kitchen."

Remo chuckled, splashing a bit of water her way. "Give me a few weeks, and I might just graduate to moderately competent."

"I look forward to it," Abby said, her voice softening with affection. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder as he rinsed the last of the dishes.

Remo turned off the tap and turned in her arms, his hands finding her waist. "What would I do without you?" he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

"Starve, probably," Abby quipped, then became more serious. "But you won’t ever have to find out."

The kitchen light cast a soft glow around them, enveloping the room in a cozy ambiance that felt worlds away from their dangerous reality.

"Let’s do dessert," Abby suggested with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She slipped out of his arms, moving towards the fridge.

"Dessert? What do you have in mind?" Remo asked, following her with a curious smile.

"Something simple yet perfect," she said, pulling out a tub of vanilla ice cream and a bottle of chocolate syrup. "Ice cream sundaes."

"Ah, a culinary challenge I might actually handle," Remo joked, taking the items from her and setting them on the counter. He grabbed two bowls from the cabinet, placing them before him like a skilled chef ready for a cooking show.

Abby watched, leaning against the counter, as Remo carefully scooped ice cream into each bowl. His concentration was comical, his tongue peeking out slightly at the corner of his mouth as he aimed for equal portions.

Seeing his determination, Abby couldn’t help but laugh. "You’re taking this very seriously, aren’t you?"

"It’s a highly delicate operation," Remo responded without looking up, his tone deadpan. Finally satisfied with his scooping, he handed her a bowl and took the chocolate syrup, drizzling it with exaggerated precision over both servings. "There. Masterpiece complete." ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

They took their bowls and sat on the living room couch, tucking their feet under them. As they dug into their sundaes, Remo’s face lit up with satisfaction. "I think I nailed it," he said after a taste, his pride in the simple task endearing.

"You might have a future in ice cream sundaes," Abby agreed, giggling. "Maybe we should open a dessert shop when all this is over."

"I’d like that," Remo mused, "a quiet life making sundaes with you, far away from all the danger."

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