I exhaled, heavily, leaving my shoes at the door. The warm comfort of my own home made a welcome change to the gusty cold wind I'd had to travel through only minutes earlier.
Lewis came out to greet me, as usual - but this time he wore an apron and oven gloves and was struggling to carry a pot full of chicken casserole that he must have been carrying around the kitchen before I had entered.
"Lewis... put the casserole pot down before you drop it," I said gently.
"I won't drop it," he replied, shuffling into the kitchen.
He never usually cooked dinner this early. It was barely five o'clock; he didn't usually start thinking about it until at least six thirty.
"What are you nervous about?"
"..."
He popped his head out of the kitchen and looked at me.
"Nervous? Who, me?"
"Yes, you. I know you're nervous. And I think I know what you're nervous about as well."
"Huh..." he replied, sighing. "How do you always know everything?"
"Hmm," I mumbled, giving him a cold hard stare.480Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDu6w83onzV
"T-take off your coat," he said.
I did so, not taking my eyes off him.
"And-d-d please... stop the st-t-t-t-t-taring..."
"Hmmmm..."
"Goddamn it! Stop it already!"
There was an awkward silence between us.
"Yes. The mission was confirmed. I have two days to prep before I head to America." I said finally.
"...I knew it."
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