Glitch [Part 3]
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
Pairing: Tommy Merlyn x Reader
Word Count: 1228
You couldn’t help but shake as you neared the Meryln residence. Cooking had always been a world of passion for you, but everything had to go smoothly today. Today is the day you will meet your recently found best friend. You could feel yourself getting cold feet. Oliver Queen was not just Tommy’s best friend, but his chosen brother. What if he didn’t like you? Would it be the end of your relationship?
‘It’s just a dinner.’ You thought, ‘An important dinner with an important figure in Tommy’s life.’
You never felt this way when you had an impromptu dinner with Tommy’s father, Malcolm Merlyn. He had invited himself to one of your more extravagant dates and took the liberty to introduce himself to his son’s ‘current bed warmer’ (his words, not Tommy’s).
You know you wouldn’t be able to survive another embarrassment. Tommy doesn’t hold his father’s opinion in any regard, but Oliver is different. Despite his flaws, Tommy held Olivier in high regard.
Tommy did not take kindly to his father’s words. He promptly cursed his father for speaking in such a way to you, swiftly paid the bill, and got you away from his father and his venomous words. After the horrendous dinner, Tommy apologized for the interruption and his father’s callous words.
‘Please let this dinner turn out better.’
You parked your car, gathered the grocery bags, and walked up towards the door. One of the maids gave you a gentle smile before allowing you inside. You vaguely remember the way to the kitchen. After the encounter with Tommy’s father, the two of you didn’t spend much time at Tommy’s place.
You called out his name before stepping into the exceptionally spacious kitchen. It was the type of kitchen you would see on television—the type advertised to be for the middle class but clearly for the filthy rich. The kind that is just for show and never used.
“Here.” He turned to you with a bright smile. He was finally getting his dream: his best friend and girl were about to meet. It was something he thought would only stay a dream, but somehow it became reality.
You turned your attention away from him and onto the new kitchenware. He definitely bought them for this occasion, even though you offered to bring your cooking utensils. You had even insisted on hosting the dinner at your place, but he had a vision of how things would play out.
You shook your head in disbelief. “You didn’t have to buy all of this.” The equipment alone must’ve cost a fortune, and what a waste if it was only used once.
“How else am I supposed to show off that I am an amazing cook?” He joked. “I need to have proof, don’t I?”
You hummed, “And what have you cooked in this kitchen? Let alone the new kitchenware.”
He shook his head and raised his hands. “It is not about what I have or haven’t cooked in this kitchen. It is about the possibilities of what I can make. Especially for the love of my life and my best friend.”
You could almost feel your heart bursting out of your chest. ‘The love of his life’ It was like hearing your favorite song on the radio. It felt like a warm blanket was wrapping you up on a chilly winter night.
“That sounds like someone who has never worked a bone in this kitchen.” You say, almost daring him to disagree with you, before raising an eyebrow, “Am I wrong?”
He gripped his white shirt in what was supposed to be anguish. “How could you attack my ego so unapologetic? I thought we had something good.” He wasn’t the best actor; his feeble illusion was shattered by the laughter coming through his words.
You joined in, laughing until your stomach hurt. “I just want to keep my man on Earth with me. I can’t have him floating away.”
His composure shattered, and he erupted in laughter. His laugh, his genuine laugh, was so light and gentle. It reminded you of the wind chimes your grandmother would hang out on the porch as the wind created music. You would never tire of hearing his laugh.
He clapped his hands and brought you back from your daydream. “Let’s get started! I want to show off my skills.”
“Or lack thereof.” You joked.
“Hey!” He pouted. He watched as you removed the ingredients from the brown paper bags. “What do you want me to do, chief?”
“Did you preheat the ovens like I told you?” You asked about covering several sheet pans with aluminum foil.
“Yes.” He said, “One was set at 225 and the other at 450.”
“Perfect.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Take the mini medley potatoes and wash them before placing them on this.” You pointed at one of the olive oil-covered pans and said, “Pan and smash them with the bottom of the jar.”
Tommy exclaimed, “Yes, chef!” You could hear him take the potatoes to the sink and turn on the water while you seasoned the bone-in rib eye with salt and pepper.
The time the two of you spent making the perfect dinner felt so mundane. It was something you could imagine doing for the rest of your life with him. Tommy was not your first boyfriend, but he was the first to spend time with you in the kitchen. Normally, you would be busy cooking dinner while they played video games with their friends. You used to do it alone, but these two of you were perfect. You would give anything to continue to have moments like this.
‘Oliver should be here soon.’ You busied yourself by mindlessly plating the uncut rib eye onto the decorative platter. As you did so, Tommy spent his time stabbing toothpicks onto the Bourbon Glaze bacon-wrapped shrimp and moving them to a different plate.
As the two of you continued to finish up, a roar sounded out from Tommy’s stomach, which led to the two of you laughing. “All this work made me hungry.” He rubbed his stomach sheepishly. “Oliver needs to get here soon, or else I’ll riot.”
“He’ll be here soon.” You reassured him before handing him the shrimp. “Go put this on the table.”
“Yes chef!”
Almost as if you could read his thoughts, you called out, “And no snacking!” You could only hear a disappointed groan as you watched him walk into the dining room and disappear. You thought, ‘He was the love of your life. He was your person.’ You would climb mountains to be his.
You were thankful to have Tommy in your life. He showed you the love authors write about—a love you once thought only existed inside the pages of a novel, and you prayed this was real. And that you didn’t conjure him up in your imagination.
You portioned out the cuts of the rib eye in your mind before slicing into it. The slices should not be too big or too small. Each slice should carry enough chimichurri sauce to melt in your mouth.
Once you finished, you washed your hands and checked to see if you had acquired any stains on your clothing. When you deemed yourself presentable, the doorbell rang, and your body tightened. Dinner was about to commence.
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Tag: @twilightlover2007
