The Master Chef and the Klutz in an Ideal World
The mansion was magnificent, to say the least.
Well-manicured lawns, its perimeter lined with beautiful rose bushes - ruby red and pearl white varieties.
The windows were spotless, reflecting the light of the sun into my eyes until I had to shield myself with my arm.
I walked up a cobbled path that led me to the front door, watching each step as I went.
My heart was hammering in my chest; I felt about to burst from the build-up of anticipation of the past few days !
Finally.
The moment was here.
Who knew what could happen?
Who knew where this could lead?
I took a deep breath as I stared at the grain of wood on his polished front door.
And I took another deep breath. And another.
After what seemed like a millennium, I raised my arm to knock on the door and alert someone of my presence. But before I could...
"Hey ! You're here ! Please, come on in."
Gosh. It really IS him.
I cannot believe that he is really standing before me, larger than life.
I pinched myself to check if I was dreaming.
Ow.
Okay, I'm not.
I was struck by his hair, his face, beaming at me as if he was happy to see me.
Although he was much taller than me, I noticed the colour of his eyes - a deep brown - the broadness of his shoulders - very inviting for someone to cry on - and the rippling muscles beneath his shirt.
Oh, he certainly looked dashing in a black shirt, unbuttoned just before his mid-chest.
How flattered I felt that he would dress up for such a simple lunch with me.
I had to almost physically force my eyes to look up into his face, instead of into the small exposed area of his chest.
I took him all in, hardly believing that I was here, that he was here, that the moment was finally here.
He did not seem phased by my lack of speech.
"I have everything almost done. Just need to get the roast out of the oven."
As he said it, I became faintly aware of the aroma of something sweet and heavenly from behind him.
All of sudden, I felt hungry.
I stepped in behind him and admired his furnishings as he bustled behind the counter of his neat kitchen.
At the dining room was a table set for two with mouth-watering dishes I could not even begin to describe laid out in the middle, tempting me to go up to them and take a whiff - just to see if they smelled as good as they looked as well. He was definitely a master chef.
Gosh, I wonder how it would be like to live with him?
I started daydreaming of waffles and pancakes in bed, lovely pastries for tea, wonderful scrumptious meals everyday, spoiled for choice when it came to types of cuisine...
"Shall I seat you?"
He pulled out my chair and I gingerly sat on it, aware of his eyes boring into the back of my head.
Was my hair all in place? Did I have a rogue strand? Can he see it?
I consciously ran a hand through my curls, and smiled as he sat opposite me.
But he was such an easy person to be with.
He put me at ease so quickly, with his wit and his humour, and his charm.
I can barely remember our conversation that whole two hours over lunch, but it did not seem to matter.
What I did remember were details I hoped he would never know I noticed.
How his hair looks soft enough to risk reaching my hand out to touch. (Which, of course, I did not do. How embarrassing would that be?)
How his smile is a little crooked, but his teeth so perfectly white.
How his laugh is oh-so-enchanting and could melt all my insides into goo.
How his eyes are a deep brown just like many other Asians, but if I stare long enough, I swear his eyes could smile right back, as if they knew I was staring, and was amused.
How he likes to rub his hand to the back of his head when he was embarrassed at something I said (when I praised him for his culinary skills, his generosity).
We shared a lot about ourselves.
I told him about my dreams, my hopes, my wishes for the future. How I wanted to be more than just a good teacher to my students, more of a friend they can share things with. Someone who, they will tell me years after they have left the school, has left an impression on them in more ways than one. I want to be GREAT.
He shared with me about his life, his work, his passion for cooking and how it is more than just appeasing the stomach, but more of an art. About his struggles, and even how one allergic-reaction incident almost cost him the career he had spent his life building. But he made it through. I mentally saluted him for his courage and determination. He would never give up his love for his work. I could certainly see that.
All too soon, it was time to leave.
I was reluctant to go, but embarrassed that I had taken up so much of his precious time.
He must be annoyed with me for that, but had been too polite to say so, or show any sign of it.
I kicked myself for that. How insensitive ! Don't you know how busy he is? He's got more important things to do than chat aimlessly with you, I berated myself.
As I stood on his front porch step, I held out my hand to shake his; to thank him for a wonderful lunch.
Honestly, it was more than wonderful. It had been great. I wondered if it was too forward if I asked him to lunch next time. And cook him what, instant noodles? I shook my head.
He was way out of my league. I should be grateful I even had this opportunity.
I looked at him and was surprised to see that he was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt.
"Do you think...we could do this again sometime?" His eyes flicked from mine, to the ground at his feet.
I almost laughed out loud.
Was he nervous about asking me to lunch? Him? Nervous about asking me?
It suddenly hit me that he was asking me out again.
HE. WAS ASKING ME OUT. AGAIN.
I almost choked.
Don't let this opportunity go. Be confident, girl !
"S-S-Sure." Darn.
I was too busy scolding myself for stammering my response that I did not see his hand until it was below my chin, tilting it up towards his face.
I gulped visibly.
His nervousness seemed to have disappeared as his lips curled upward into a smile.
My legs could barely hold me up - they felt too much like jelly.
The distance between my lips and his got smaller and smaller...
An inch away from him, I closed my eyes thinking, "Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh..."
My final thought was, "I hope my breath does not smell like the roast turkey we just had !"
Suddenly I felt a vibration just beside my ear. A strange kind of buzzing.
Not now !!
I tried to ignore the buzzing and vibration and concentrate instead on the softness of his lips on mine - which I should have felt by now.
My forehead creased and I peeked out of the slits of my eyes.
"W-w-what?"
Ceiling fan.
Pink walls.
Pillow in my face.
And my handphone alarm, buzzing furiously to tell me it is time to wake up.
Nooo !!! This cannot be happening !!
I squeezed my eyes shut, as tight as I could, and willed myself back to moment before our lips touched.
All I could see in my mind was black.
Sigh.
Why????
p.s: This was definitely a dream I did not want to wake up from :(
Well-manicured lawns, its perimeter lined with beautiful rose bushes - ruby red and pearl white varieties.
The windows were spotless, reflecting the light of the sun into my eyes until I had to shield myself with my arm.
I walked up a cobbled path that led me to the front door, watching each step as I went.
My heart was hammering in my chest; I felt about to burst from the build-up of anticipation of the past few days !
Finally.
The moment was here.
Who knew what could happen?
Who knew where this could lead?
I took a deep breath as I stared at the grain of wood on his polished front door.
And I took another deep breath. And another.
After what seemed like a millennium, I raised my arm to knock on the door and alert someone of my presence. But before I could...
"Hey ! You're here ! Please, come on in."
I cannot believe that he is really standing before me, larger than life.
I pinched myself to check if I was dreaming.
Ow.
Okay, I'm not.
I was struck by his hair, his face, beaming at me as if he was happy to see me.
Although he was much taller than me, I noticed the colour of his eyes - a deep brown - the broadness of his shoulders - very inviting for someone to cry on - and the rippling muscles beneath his shirt.
Oh, he certainly looked dashing in a black shirt, unbuttoned just before his mid-chest.
How flattered I felt that he would dress up for such a simple lunch with me.
I had to almost physically force my eyes to look up into his face, instead of into the small exposed area of his chest.
I took him all in, hardly believing that I was here, that he was here, that the moment was finally here.
He did not seem phased by my lack of speech.
"I have everything almost done. Just need to get the roast out of the oven."
As he said it, I became faintly aware of the aroma of something sweet and heavenly from behind him.
All of sudden, I felt hungry.
I stepped in behind him and admired his furnishings as he bustled behind the counter of his neat kitchen.
At the dining room was a table set for two with mouth-watering dishes I could not even begin to describe laid out in the middle, tempting me to go up to them and take a whiff - just to see if they smelled as good as they looked as well. He was definitely a master chef.
Gosh, I wonder how it would be like to live with him?
I started daydreaming of waffles and pancakes in bed, lovely pastries for tea, wonderful scrumptious meals everyday, spoiled for choice when it came to types of cuisine...
"Shall I seat you?"
He pulled out my chair and I gingerly sat on it, aware of his eyes boring into the back of my head.
Was my hair all in place? Did I have a rogue strand? Can he see it?
I consciously ran a hand through my curls, and smiled as he sat opposite me.
But he was such an easy person to be with.
He put me at ease so quickly, with his wit and his humour, and his charm.
I can barely remember our conversation that whole two hours over lunch, but it did not seem to matter.
What I did remember were details I hoped he would never know I noticed.
How his hair looks soft enough to risk reaching my hand out to touch. (Which, of course, I did not do. How embarrassing would that be?)
How his smile is a little crooked, but his teeth so perfectly white.
How his laugh is oh-so-enchanting and could melt all my insides into goo.
How his eyes are a deep brown just like many other Asians, but if I stare long enough, I swear his eyes could smile right back, as if they knew I was staring, and was amused.
How he likes to rub his hand to the back of his head when he was embarrassed at something I said (when I praised him for his culinary skills, his generosity).
We shared a lot about ourselves.
I told him about my dreams, my hopes, my wishes for the future. How I wanted to be more than just a good teacher to my students, more of a friend they can share things with. Someone who, they will tell me years after they have left the school, has left an impression on them in more ways than one. I want to be GREAT.
He shared with me about his life, his work, his passion for cooking and how it is more than just appeasing the stomach, but more of an art. About his struggles, and even how one allergic-reaction incident almost cost him the career he had spent his life building. But he made it through. I mentally saluted him for his courage and determination. He would never give up his love for his work. I could certainly see that.
All too soon, it was time to leave.
I was reluctant to go, but embarrassed that I had taken up so much of his precious time.
He must be annoyed with me for that, but had been too polite to say so, or show any sign of it.
I kicked myself for that. How insensitive ! Don't you know how busy he is? He's got more important things to do than chat aimlessly with you, I berated myself.
As I stood on his front porch step, I held out my hand to shake his; to thank him for a wonderful lunch.
Honestly, it was more than wonderful. It had been great. I wondered if it was too forward if I asked him to lunch next time. And cook him what, instant noodles? I shook my head.
He was way out of my league. I should be grateful I even had this opportunity.
I looked at him and was surprised to see that he was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt.
"Do you think...we could do this again sometime?" His eyes flicked from mine, to the ground at his feet.
I almost laughed out loud.
Was he nervous about asking me to lunch? Him? Nervous about asking me?
It suddenly hit me that he was asking me out again.
HE. WAS ASKING ME OUT. AGAIN.
I almost choked.
Don't let this opportunity go. Be confident, girl !
"S-S-Sure." Darn.
I was too busy scolding myself for stammering my response that I did not see his hand until it was below my chin, tilting it up towards his face.
I gulped visibly.
His nervousness seemed to have disappeared as his lips curled upward into a smile.
My legs could barely hold me up - they felt too much like jelly.
The distance between my lips and his got smaller and smaller...
An inch away from him, I closed my eyes thinking, "Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh..."
My final thought was, "I hope my breath does not smell like the roast turkey we just had !"
Suddenly I felt a vibration just beside my ear. A strange kind of buzzing.
Not now !!
I tried to ignore the buzzing and vibration and concentrate instead on the softness of his lips on mine - which I should have felt by now.
My forehead creased and I peeked out of the slits of my eyes.
"W-w-what?"
Ceiling fan.
Pink walls.
Pillow in my face.
And my handphone alarm, buzzing furiously to tell me it is time to wake up.
Nooo !!! This cannot be happening !!
I squeezed my eyes shut, as tight as I could, and willed myself back to moment before our lips touched.
All I could see in my mind was black.
Sigh.
Why????
p.s: This was definitely a dream I did not want to wake up from :(
Comments
Well, I always set an alarm, but I normally never get up then. Only long enough to shut if off. Then I go back to sleep and wake up an hour later :P
Yeah yeahhh. Funney >.<
>>Jenny
Ahaha. Not that detailed. I added some stuff I imagined would happen :)
>>Jyannie
You're right. It's impossible to remember every little detail. It's a miracle I even remembered dreaming about Dennis Oh at all ! ahaha But I made it into a little short story. :)
I know, right? Wish it was true >.<