Office Diaries - Chapter 169

The spicy concoction in the pot bubbled as it boiled. The slender built, alabaster-skinned woman standing next to the stove stirred the pot and dipped a spoon to taste her cooking and smiled.

Delicious!

Her long raven hair flipped as she turned; she grabbed a bowl and scooped food in it and held it close to her nose to smell its mouthwatering aroma. With a proud smile on her face, she walked towards the room next to the kitchen. The door made a cricking sound when she pushed it with her knee and the sound of the computer keyboard welcomed her.

There, on the far side of the room, her best friend crouched over his ŀȧptop, serious at work. For a moment, Anjee paused by the doorway, admiring the sight before her.

Peter Choi, handsome in his crinkled, old, light pink shirt and white shorts was currently slaving over his new novel. Yes, Peter was a famous author of popular novels as well as a renowned lyricist, and she, Anjee Perez, ordinary salary woman was proud to be the man’s best friend and ȧssistant.

In the public’s prying eyes, Peter was a charmer. His set of pearly white teeth flashed in contrast to his tanned complexion, all the while looking smart in his impeccable suit. Unbeknownst to everyone however, at home he was just the opposite. If Anjee was just a stranger, she’d think Peter was a bum.

As if to prove it, Peter suddenly stretched as he closed his eyes, scratched his tummy, and Anjee took it as a cue to approach him. With an indulgent smile on her face, she placed the steaming bowl in front of him and Peter quickly opened his eyes.

“Anj?” he asked as he turned towards his best friend. “You’re here!” he exclaimed as he immediately sat up straight, taking the bowl in his hands.

Anjee watched as Peter stared at his food like an eager little boy and she laughed.

“I’ve been here for hours, dummy,” she teased as she sat on the chair next to her friend.

The two of them had a copy of each other’s keys so they were both free to come and go in each other’s houses.

“You looked very busy earlier so I didn’t disturb you,” she continued as she leaned over, her elbow supporting her chin on the armrest. “Eat it while it’s hot.”

Peter pushed his ŀȧptop away to make room for the bowl and he placed his food on the table. Anjee didn’t bother giving him utensils because Peter kept his personal utensils in his drawer which he now opened to get his chopsticks. Anjee had served him his favorite ramen and he dug in as soon as he was able to.

The slurping sound filled the room as he ate his noodle and his stomach grumbled in anticipation as soon as the delicious flavor filled his mouth.

“Hmmmmnnn…” he muttered appreciatively as he turned to his friend who was watching him eat with gusto. “Your ramen’s really good,” he crooned. “You’re not going to have some?”

“No. I already ate,” Anjee said as she shook her head.

Peter nodded in answer as he ate another mouthful and flinched, his eyes turning watery. A piece of food went down the wrong pipe and he hit his ċhėst as he choked.

Anjee quickly ran back to the kitchen to get some water and quickly scolded Peter as soon as she handed him the glass.

“You never changed. You eat like a famished kid. Eat slowly,” she nagged as she tapped his back.

“Sorry. I was just soooo hungry.”

The exaggeration made Anjee smile and shake her head at the same time. She couldn’t recall how many times this same thing happened.

“When was the last time you ate?” she asked and wasn’t surprised when he answered that his last meal was yesterday morning.

Peter tended to forget everything including food when he’s in the mood to write. That was why whenever she could, she would come to his apartment and cook for him.

“I told you not to skip meals. You should take better care of yourself you know,” Anjee scolded in spite of knowing that their topic was very old one and the outcome would be the same.

Peter would agree to anything she would say but would forget it after a fashion. She wouldn’t get angry anyway knowing that it’s important for Peter to keep working when the mood struck. He was after all, an artist.

“I will, I will,” the writer answered noncommittally as he continued to eat.

Anjee wasn’t able to do anything but shake her head in disapproval as she watched her childish friend, yet the corner of her mouth was slanted into a smile. She was very pleased that Peter liked her cooking a lot.

“Do you want some more?” she asked as she saw the almost empty bowl and Peter nodded eagerly.

“Okay.”

Upon receiving his second helping of ramen, Peter turned to her with questioning eyes.

“Hey, I thought you said you’d be gone for a week?” he asked and the smile quickly vanished from her face. “Ehrm…did something happen?�� the author’s forehead creased with worry.

“Nothing, really,” she answered with a sheepish smile. “I just decided that there’s no use in running away,” she continued which made his frown deepen.

Anjee knew she sounded like an enigmatic idiot but she didn’t care. Let Peter guess what she meant with that. She wouldn’t dare tell him.

“Are you sure?” Peter asked suspiciously and her smile widened although the glint in her eyes dimmed.

“I’m sure Pete,” she said as she reached out her hands which the other took in his and held it tight.

This was another thing they’d always do when one of them was feeling down.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” she continued pertaining to the time when she was feeling depressed over something she didn’t want to say and Peter stayed with her.

“What are you talking about? You’re the one who’s been taking care of me,” he said as he pulled her close to him, making her sit on his ŀȧp. They’ve been like this since grade school.

“Don’t you feel awkward?” she asked as she leaned back against his ċhėst.

“Why would I?” the writer asked back as he held her tight.

“Because we’re already grown yet we still do this,” she answered as she sighed and his hold on her tightened.

“I don’t feel awkward,” he said vehemently as he buried his face against her back, making her face sad.

Of course, it wouldn’t feel anything to Peter, she thought.

“Do you feel awkward?” the writer asked back, making her stop and laugh.

“Of course not,” she denied with a snort.

“Then there’s no problem if we do this right?” he asked and she sighed.

“I guess,” she answered and a momentary silence came between them, broken only by his sudden words.

“I love you Anj. Do you love me?”

COMMENT 6 comments VOTE 1 left SEND GIFT Load failed, please RETRY Privileged

More Privileged Chapters

Background default yellow dark

Font Nunito Sans Merriweather

Size

Paragraph comments Chapter comments Write thought liked newest Author:

© 0){ %>Chapter :

Author: Machine Translation

Translator: Editor: