(Of course my main character had to be Spanish like me lol, I hope you like it!)
Logan listened as Michelle finished showering.
The sound of the hairdryer could be heard clearly even if one didn't have heightened senses like he did.
When she came down the stairs she was wearing a grey tracksuit, her dry hair comfortably draped over her shoulders and some comfortable slippers on her feet.
He stared at her for a few moments, shocked by the homely feeling she and her actions emanated.
"I'm done," he announced as if he hadn't seen her come down the stairs a few seconds ago. "Let's go to dinner, I'm starving."
"Actually I should be going," he said, gathering all the willpower he could muster. "I wouldn't want to abuse your hospitality."
"You're not, Logan," she smiled, gesturing to the table. "Please stay."
The man felt like a complete idiot as he nodded and sat down in the chair across from her, but how could he refuse the hospitality she was so kindly offering him?
Michelle reached for a couple of plates from the top shelf of one of the cupboards, while setting a couple of glasses on the table.
She then turned to the pan that was on the stove. She turned on the stove and set it to three to warm up the food.
“I only have water to drink,” she said when she opened the fridge. “I should have done the shopping yesterday.”
“It’s okay, water is fine,” he replied.
After she had poured the water, she divided the contents of the pan among the plates and sat down in front of him.
Logan watched as she picked up the fork she had placed with the plate earlier and blew on it, before bringing it to her mouth.
He frowned for a moment before imitating her. He had never tasted anything so delicious.
He ate for a couple of minutes in silence, until he felt her watching him. He looked up and when he saw her smile he knew he was more screwed than he thought.
“What’s wrong?” -he asked, looking at her in turn-
-Nothing, it's just that I like to see when people enjoy my food- she said, cleaning up her plate- you've never tried anything like this before, have you?
-No- she confessed, taking another spoonful to her mouth- What is it?
-It's a typical Spanish dish- she explained- it's called fabada. Sometimes we make it with rice and beans- she laughed- although you have to have a bomb-proof stomach to eat that
-Why?- he wanted to know-
-Because it's a very heavy dish, some people find it very unpleasant- she laughed, he frowned, not understanding what she meant- it means that it makes them feel bad- she said, he nodded-
-Are you Spanish? -he asked, she nodded with a smile-
-Yes sir, in the flesh-he joked making her smile-
-Then you'll get along well with Laura-he said-she also speaks Spanish-he shrugged-she's tried to teach me several times, but patience is not one of my strong points
-It's a matter of practice-she said picking up the plates-I'm sure that with time you'll speak Spanish like a professional
-I'm sure you will-he murmured kindly-
Hours passed and before they knew it the sun was rising over the horizon.
They had spent the whole night talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
Logan felt comfortable in her presence, she was someone he could talk to in a relaxed manner, and after a long time, open up a little to her, which scared him more than he was willing to admit.
He had spent years building his shell so that no one would be able to see beyond it and discover that, despite his rough and selfless exterior, there was someone who desperately needed to be loved.
“If Sabretooth saw me now…” he thought as he watched Michelle carefully water the plants in the living room.
That girl… was slowly managing to melt the walls of ice he had put around his heart
And Logan didn't have enough defenses to protect himself from her.
