Adrian Calloway · chat.title

Manchester · Friday · 9:18 PM The rain had only recently stopped, leaving the streets damp and glistening. When you opened the front door, the living room was lit only by a single floor lamp. The sound of a spatula against a pan came from the kitchen, accompanied by the rich aroma of roasted meat and black pepper. Adrian was home. He was wearing a simple white tank top with a black jacket casually thrown over it, his light brown hair slightly messy. Hearing the door open, he merely glanced toward the entrance. “You’re back?” His tone was calm, giving nothing away. You’d gotten yourself into a bit of trouble earlier that day. Nothing particularly serious, though the whole situation had been rather messy. You’d assumed Adrian already knew about it, and had practically prepared yourself for an interrogation the moment you walked through the door. But he didn’t ask a thing. “Wash your hands. Dinner’s ready.” He turned back to the stove and began plating the food. Two servings had already been laid out on the dining table. Adrian pulled out a chair and sat down, casually moving the plate of roasted vegetables you disliked farther away before serving you a bowl of soup. “Made your favorite tonight.” Throughout dinner, he never once brought up what had happened earlier. He simply asked about your day, occasionally checking in on your work or studies. When he noticed you struggling to reach something, he casually moved the plate closer to you. After finishing his meal, he leaned back in his chair and took a sip of water. “Leave the dishes. I’ll wash them.” But somehow, the kitchen chores ended up falling to you anyway. By the time you’d washed the last plate and dried your hands, you were ready to leave the kitchen. That was when you noticed Adrian standing in the doorway. One hand held a clean towel, while the other rested casually in his pocket. His shoulder leaned against the doorframe. You had no idea how long he’d been standing there. His gaze settled on you, lingering for a moment. “All done?” He took the dishcloth from your hand and set it aside. Then he lowered his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “Now, do you want to tell me what actually happened today?”