Chapter 2 Day 2 And 3: Shirts, Steaks And Bunnies Part 1

• The whole night Marcus wasn’t able to sleep properly. His mind drifted off to the recent events earlier with his self-proclaimed butler.
• The entirety of the house was basically covered with colonies of cobwebs and thick dusts, but since the bedrooms, the living room and the kitchen were the most accessed of the areas, Heron and Marcus chose to clean them first.
• They started with the kitchen of course, just so Heron could whip up an evening meal for both of them with ease. First, Heron decided to take his overcoat off. Marcus gave him a raised brow.
• “To avoid it being dirtied,” was Heron’s reason.
• Then, he unbuttoned his long-sleeved shirt, taking in a shirtless form. Marcus glared at him and raised his brows again, diverting his eyes away from the well-cut sinews.
• “This place doesn’t have an air conditioner yet,” was Heron’s pretty alibi.
• Both answers, Marcus just nodded in response but catching himself overheating inside with frustration. He still can’t accept that a demon was helping him clean the house, most especially a demon who has some past with him. But, unable to do anything about it, he just went on his way, focusing on tidying up the cupboards.
• Minutes later, that’s when he realized that his butler was right, the room was indeed hot, especially when he was actively working.
• “Why don’t you take your shirt off too, Marcus? It’d be more comfortable,” Heron suggested, stopping from taking the pesky spiders out of the ceiling edges.
• “No, no. I’m fine, Sir Heron,” Marcus answered, not glancing at him at all.
• Unconsciously, he wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and that’s when he felt a cold hand slide under his shirt and touch his waist.
• He gasped and turned quickly around only to find Heron staring with piercing eyes in front of him. He ran his hand up to Marcus’ abdomen, feeling for the buttons of his shirt.
• “Sweating, my dear Marcus, is sexy if it is for another fine reason and if I see you lying in bed. Here, it looks disgusting. So why don’t I strip this shirt off of you? It would be my pleasure you know.”
• With Marcus’ mouth open, he quickly pulled himself away and clasped the buttons of his shirt. “No, Sir Heron. I can manage,” was his reply, pointing his eyes downward.
• “Then do it, boy.” Heron grinned and returned to his earlier duty, showing his back to him.
• Marcus did as he was told, whilst releasing a defeated sigh.
• The remainder of the kitchen cleaning that afternoon was left with an uneasy boy and an amused demon, both stealing glances on each other.
• By evening, Heron cooked up a recipe provided on a cream can. There were supposed to be ready-to-eat packs in the fridge for them to heat, but being a butler that he is, he chose to whip up the dish for the boy. Marcus was upstairs changing his dusty clothes, letting his butler prepare everything.
• When the food was served, a half-charred steak and a bland mashed potato came into the table. Marcus’s brows flinched, watching it in confusion.
• “Is...is this edible?” he asked, looking up at Heron who was standing in a Spongebob-printed apron (Marcus had bought together with the food packs this morning) and a spatula on hand.
• “Of course, why are you asking?” Heron immediately replied with sharp eyes calculating the boy’s move.
• “Nothing,” Marcus answered and then took a knife on the side of the plate, cut the God-forsaken steak into pieces and forked a small cube of it. After tasting, Marcus almost wanted to retch, but didn’t.
• “It’s...good,” he commented, eyeing the demon with a hard smile.
• “Hmmm... that will do,” Heron stated, pleased with his so-called accomplishment. “Go on, eat.”
• Marcus held his breath to continue. Might as well do as he was told than face the wrath of the demon general. But goodness, he was a lover of food, but food like this wasn’t going to be his stomach’s best friend. Not at all.
• “By the way Sir Heron, do you cook for Father Azrael in the Traugott Residence?” Marcus questioned, painfully swallowing the pieces down.
• “No, this is my first time cooking Marcus,” answered Heron, still staring like a guard dog.
• ‘What?!’
• Marcus choked. “Then, who does it for you in the residence?”
• “There are maids for that you know. I am a butler, I don’t do cooking.”
• “Then why are you cooking for me now?”
• Really. You don’t even know the word ‘spices’. Why bother to cook for me?!
• There was a short silence that followed.
• Marcus waited for Heron to answer, expecting some sentences like ‘I want to learn or it’s none of your business,’ but his answer was all too different.
• “Because I aim to feed you, Marcus,” was his stern reply. His eyes, containing a torrent of emotion, stared at him. The words were simple but Marcus held his breath. He couldn’t see if the demon was pertaining to the food or something else.
• “Thank you for your concern, Sir Heron,” was his uneasy reply. “But we can always eat outside or heat some food packs, you don’t need to cook at all.”
• “Right,” Heron replied whilst putting the spatula on the sink. “That’s just an option though.” He took his own share of the dish and sat opposite Marcus.
• They both ate together for minutes in silence, nothing to take note of. Once done, surprisingly, Marcus didn’t have any leftovers, but actually, it was a hard choice to make, shoving the hard meat inside his throat and acting happy about it.
• “By the way, how did you cook the steak when the gas stove is not working?” Marcus asked, becoming curious suddenly.
• “I used my hands,” was Heron’s short reply.
• “What do you mean,” the boy asked nonchalantly, not getting what the demon meant.
• “I summoned fire from Hell, Marcus,” he coolly replied, “that’s how I cooked this beautiful steak.”
• And that made Marcus choke out the last cube in his throat. “What?!”
• "What what?” The demon’s brow rose.
• “Seriously, Sir Heron, you can’t do that!”
• “And why is that?” His tone was clipped, but with some degree of innocence.
• Because you can just grill the steak with charcoal, not with the ridiculous flames of Hell that’s why!
• “Because there’s a perfectly good grill in the patio, you can just use that,” Marcus muttered silently, trying to calm his nerves with a drink from his share of bottled water. Seriously, the fires of Hell?
• Heron, crossing his legs, answered after a smirk.
• “Oh, sure I can do that, but it would take time. There are better things I can do tonight than making dinner.”
• ‘What the hell! Are you a butler or not?!’ Marcus shouted in his mind.
• Heron leaned forward, stretched the spoon in his hand and rested the tip of it in the boy’s chin.
• It felt cold and moist, and it sent shivers down his throat. Marcus flinched and shifted to move his face out of contact. “Then, next time, let me cook,” he suggested, acting not at all flustered by his gesture, but he was deep inside, “I value my food you know.”
• Heron gave a snort and placed the said spoon down. “Fine by me,” for some reason, he accepted without having much of a fight and that relieved the boy very much. “Just make sure you cook better than me. And while you’re at it, please replace this overbearing yellow sponge with bunnies. I want to watch you cook with a bunny apron.”
• He stood up, took his empty plate and dropped it on the sink, turning his back on Marcus. He pulled the apron off overhead and dropped it on the trash bin.
• Marcus, although alarmed seeing this, squeaked in his head silently, ‘but I love Spongebob!’