Isaac turned to me, scratching his head. “I can order you something.”
“We could just make something.” I tilted my head. “Have you eaten yet?”
Isaac shook his head, but made no move to prepare anything. I stared at him for a moment, because frankly, I had no idea where anything was. Since I’d gotten here, I hadn’t had to cook a single meal for myself. Even my snacks were brought to me on a silver platter.
Finally, Isaac nodded. “Very well.”
He tossed his jacket over a nearby chair and turned on his heel, flinging open the refrigerator door. He muttered to himself for a moment, “Pasta… I can handle pasta…” before he let out a small, “Aha!” and pulled out a jar of tomato sauce.
I watched as he then put a pot on the stove, dumped the sauce in, and then…
“Wait!” I lunge
