Cook with him
In the office, Hazel tried her best to avoid any contact with Francisco, determined to maintain a professional distance. Francisco, keenly aware of her efforts, chose not to comment, allowing a silent understanding settling between them.
As the day progressed and evening approached, Hazel observed Francisco leaving his office earlier than usual. Hazel focused on organizing files within the cabin, ensuring everything was in order before leaving. When the clock signaled the end of the workday, she swiftly gathered her belongings and made her way towards the exit.
Standing outside the office building, Hazel intended to hail a taxi for her commute home. However, her plans took an unexpected turn when she noticed Francisco's car pulling up in front of her. The guard promptly opened the gate, and there sat Francisco in the driver's seat, seemingly lost in thought.
Summoning her courage, Hazel approached the car and leaned in, addressing him politely,
He turned his gaze toward her, and Hazel continued,
Hazel
I can go home tonight.
Francisco shifted his gaze to Hazel, seemingly unfazed by her statement. Instead, he suggested,
Francisco
I thought I would have dinner with you.
Hazel, caught off guard by the unexpected invitation, managed to maintain her composure and offered an awkward smile as she joined him in the car.
As the vehicle came to a stop in front of Hazel's apartment, both stepped out of the car, heading towards the entrance. Unbeknownst to them, another car lurked in the shadows, a person discreetly observing Hazel's movements.
Once inside her apartment, Hazel gestured towards the living area, her neat and clean space inviting Francisco to make himself comfortable.
Hazel
Please, sir, have a seat. I'll do something after changing.
As Hazel left the room to freshen up, Francisco remained seated, his gaze following her departing figure.
Francisco looked around with a calm face; it seemed he was checking her dining room so closely. While taking a look, he came near the window and pulled the curtain to see outside. Then he tucked his sleeves.
Hazel swiftly changed into more casual attire — shorts and a crop top — as she anticipated Francisco's return to the dining room. Her steps quickened as she made her way to the familiar setting, but confusion clouded her expression as she found the room empty. Francisco was nowhere to be seen.
Just as her worry began to escalate, a waft of something savory reached her nose. The aroma hung in the air, leading her toward the source – the kitchen once again. This time, however, it wasn't empty.
Francisco stood by the stove, an apron tied around his waist, and a skillet sizzling with an array of colorful vegetables. The scene was so unexpected that Hazel's confusion deepened.
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