46

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
Ruth Foster
I wouldn't consider cooking a passion of mine, but I once heard that following your interests can seem like an escape away from reality, and so that's what it is. An escape, like writing. Writing to me was always my passion, but cooking is something I love as well, my uncle didn't do it much, so I did.
"Here," I hand Orion her bowl filled with pasta, the same one that when my uncle did find it in him to cook, he'd always make. "It's good, I promise you."
Eight ounces of whole-wheat rotini, five ounce package of baby spinach, roughly chopped. Four ounces reduced-fat cream cheese, cut into chunks. Some milk, some garlic powder, and a fourteen ounce can of artichoke hearts. Rinsed, dried, and chopped. The whole recipe is etched into my brain.
"I know it's good. You made it," Orion doesn't hesitate to take a bite off her fork, "Delicious."
I sit besides her and we do nothing but eat, and talk. It's these little moments I like most, the ones where even when we're silent, it still feels like home. I remember us laying in the hospital lookalike room, the day I woke up from passing out. I remember how tired she looked, almost as if she really was worried about me, worried that she'd never see me again. She denied caring, but I know her better now. I know that deep down she did.
"Tell me about a near death experience."
Orion's eyebrow arches, "You do realize that I'm encountered with death everyday, right? If I told you about one experience, then I'd have to tell you all, which means we'll be sitting here for a while."
"Yeah," I nod, "I just wanted to be nosey."
Oftentimes it occurs to me that although we're in this soft space, this grace period, I still don't know her, not entirely anyways. She's still my mystery.
"You want to hear about the time I almost drowned to death?" Orion questions after a moment of silence, "It's quite funny." I can't imagine the words drowned, and death, being funny, but I nod.
"My brother Tobias and I were always at war with each other," She begins, "Don't get me wrong, as far as love goes, we loved each other. There wasn't a time he wasn't there for me, but sometimes when there's love, there's always a little bit of hatred."
I nod, signaling for her to continue.
"We mostly fought for our father's attention. I knew he'd always win, but it was fun to believe that I could compare to the favorite. If Tobias went out and killed three men, I'd make it my mission to kill six. If he retrieved his shipments successfully, I'd attempt to sabotage his next ones. It was childish, but something that I felt needed to be done."
I can understand where this is going. Growing up, I always felt like I took the spotlight away from Emily. It made sense that her father paid attention to me more, wanted to make me feel like I belonged, especially since he knew that I didn't.
"One day he said that if I wanted to be better than him, that he'd teach me his tricks. He took me into the bathroom. I thought it was some silly joke, up until I felt myself get pushed into the tub. There was already water in there. I tried to get myself out, but he pushed me back down each time. He told me that this is what I wanted so bad, that being father's favorite felt like this, felt like you were drowning all the time. I believed him, but I also believed that having my father's love meant most, and that without it, I was lost. Tobias said that I was lucky."
"Lucky that I wasn't the favorite, that I wasn't always surrounded by this sense of drowning, and that at least I could breathe seventy percent of the time. He held me underwater for what felt like eternity, and by the time he let me go, I could've sworn I was already dead. The next night I tried to kill him, tried to suffocate him as he slept," Orion takes a sharp breath, thinking of what to say next, what to say that won't make me regret this, her. 
"I didn't kill him," Orion continues, "I couldn't. His eyes were still closed when I left, but I could tell he was alive. The next morning, he came in my room, laughed at me, and told me that's why I could never be my father's favorite,"Another breath, "You're going to regret not killing me, Orion. He said."
I place a hand on hers, "I love you. I love you, and I'd do anything to take away your pain, anything."
"You already do," Orion admits, "I don't think I tell you enough how much you impact my life, but you do. I can't even imagine life without you in it."
I can't help but smile at her words. She just told me a near death experience, and yet, all I can think about is how madly in love I am with her, and how I want nothing more than to press my lips on hers, and take away all of her pain. I should, but I don't. 
Not yet. "I once tried to kill myself," The words come out before I can stop them. I don't think of my attempt much. I used to refuse to. It makes me feel weak, and I am. "The night after my uncle died. I felt so lost, felt like I couldn't live in this world."
"You deserve to thrive in it," She whispers.
"By your side," I reply, "Always by your side."
Ruth smiles, "You know I contemplated on this for a while, on you. There was a part of me who never wanted to bring you into this life. Even though I tried to ignore the feeling, I always felt guilty. I wanted power, but I never wanted to ruin you."
By the time we're done eating, and talking in the kitchen, my mind replays all the words we spoke, and even the ones we didn't. I'm absolutely in love with this woman. I should hate her. Her father ruined my life, but I don't. I feel deeply for her.
Even as she's now laying in bed doing absolutely nothing, I can't help but mentally drool over her.
I remove my shirt slowly, and then my bottoms. Orion's eyes watch me, and her eyebrows furrow.
"What are you doing?" She questions.
Now standing in only my panties in bra, I answer her seriously, "Ruin me," I tell her, "I want you to."