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by Katad Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Experience · #2226266
The fourth chapter of the novel that needs a title.
Chapter 4
         Noticing he was officially out of socks; Nate checked the laundry room down the hall for anything that needed folding and found a whole dryer full. Dumping the basket of freshly cleaned clothes out on their bed he began the task of folding towels, underwear, socks, and some of Jasmine's delicates. Only a few minutes later Jasmine walked into the room and made her way to the dresser.
         "I'm going to shower, babe."
         "Okay. Mind if I join you?"
         "Mmmm not right now, I'm stressed out and just need to enjoy the steam in peace."
         Nate was about to try and persuade her, but Jasmine took clean clothes from the pile of laundry with her to the adjoining bathroom and closed the door behind her, flipping the lock. Within seconds the sound of the shower was heard, and Jasmine's humming floated through the door. Nate had already partly taken his shirt off in anticipation of her answer being yes. He made himself comfortable, walking back through the hallway towards the kitchen in a fresh t-shirt and some boxers. He passed by the door to her office and saw she had accidentally left her door slightly ajar, unusual for her. Peering in he looked around the room. The bookshelves against the wall to the right of the door held books that he assumed she'd collected throughout the years. Each level of the bookcase was an eclectic mix of titles he recognized as the poetry she had once carted around with her everywhere in high school, the romance she enjoyed reading in her spare time, a couple of thick, worn looking books whose gold lined pages glinted even in nonexistent light and were slowly gathering dust, one of them he remembered as being a rare first edition Jasmine had received from her Dad at her birthday party two years ago, several books on unique places to explore around the globe with more than a few pages folded and waiting for her return. The MLA and Journalism textbooks she had told him she considered to be her personal bibles were piled on top of each other on the floor by her desk chair. Both of them had more leaflets and sticky notes sticking out of them than there were pages and neither book was capable of staying shut.
         There was a giant map of the world on the wall facing the door just under the one window in the room, which was covered with blinds and curtains. He knew Jasmine was not a fan of sunlight in any respect so that didn't surprise him. He remembered her complaining that if her boss hadn't made regular video chat conferences for 10am on Mondays and deadlines for six in the evening, she'd gladly stay up all night writing and sleep during the day, sending in her articles and edits whenever she finished them.
         She started becoming more of a recluse with her writing during college. She used to tell Nate stories about how she and her roommate, Jaqueline, also a Journalism major at Alaby University, would spend hours sitting in their dorm room after classes were done for the day and talk about all their thoughts and ideas deep into the night. As they became more enemies than friends, at least in Jasmine's perspective, he wasn't entirely sure when things changed between them. Jasmine could be extremely territorial and competitive though, and he suspected that had something to do with the gradual rift.
         The map just under the window had several pins of different colors placed on it. When he said her job treated her well, he wasn't kidding. Thanks to them, she had been sent to places like Alaska and Bali just to spend time with the people who lived and worked there solely to write articles about it. She hadn't been given a travel related assignment for the last six months though, only editing other writers' work, and her new favorite rant was about how she was sure this was punishment for something. But of course, she wouldn't tell him what that something was.
         The rest of the wall held various pictures of her, her friends, and her family. All of them showing laughing, smiling faces, which seemed to be the opposite of her mood those days. The rest of the room was taken up by a black, glossy wood table. The rectangular table was made of separate parts placed next to each other that acted as one long workspace that spanned the whole second half of the room and ended with a final rectangle piece that was turned to make jut out, which held the printer, computer, and keyboard. He was so tempted to take a closer step in, take a look at the paper she'd printed out that held her latest research, but he knew that if he was found in her office there would be hell to pay.
         He was about to leave when the computer dinged. Just like the last time, his first instinct was to go close her laptop as he figured she was too preoccupied and forgot. Taking a deep breath, he kept a keen ear on the sound of the shower running down the hall as he took three steps into the room and walked over to the laptop. The message icon on the bottom of her screen was jumping up and down as he reached forward to close the top of the laptop. Right before he pressed it down, another ding sounded, this time with a text message popping up at the top right of her screen. It was from someone named Mr. Schnapps and said, "Hey, I miss you."
         Nate's body went cold, he didn't want to jump to conclusions but couldn't help but feel weird due to the message. Who the hell was Mr. Schnapps and why did he miss Jasmine? Was it an old friend? Someone from her past she hadn't told him about yet? Was he completely overreacting? He wanted answers but knew he couldn't ask without her knowing he had been in her study. Leaving the laptop open he backtracked out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar just like before,
          Rounding the corner near the front door, Nate passed through the living room and his bare feet went from the plush of the carpet to the hard linoleum of the kitchen floor. Jasmine had tried to sneak more carpet past him for the kitchen floor before he moved in, but he won the argument since he was the one who would have to clean them. The kitchen was a generously sized room for an apartment, with marble counterspace lining between the top and bottom rows of black wood cabinets, and more in the middle on a separate island that included a second, smaller sink. The fridge was stainless steel and magnetic, sporting various magnets used to hold up a variety of take out menus, pictures of Jasmine on her travels, and the grocery list. Getting a pot out of the cupboard he poured more than a little oil into the center of it and set it on the stove to boil. He moved over to the fridge and got out the ingredients for what he considered to be his "special chili". Covering the counter with spicy herbs, vegetables, and a packet of frozen meat he turned on the television to the sports network and set about making dinner. An announcer's deep voice filled the room as he discussed a replay of player nine's last move, which Nate had just missed. The Hawks were in the middle of a game against The Cubs and they didn't seem to be winning. The camera shot changed as the actual game became a smaller square in the top left corner and two men sitting at a bright red table with screens behind them filled the television. As the two commentators argued with one another about which player the viewers at home should root for with another sport's commentator, a goal was scored and the cheering fans experiencing it live went berserk in the background. Reducing the volume to low he began preparing the food, wanting to get it made and ready before Jasmine finished standing in the steam and walked through. This was one of Nate's favorite moments of the day. Jasmine burned water, so he did all the cooking for the first time in his life and came to enjoy the process. His "special chili" earned its title as it was the first dish he successfully made. Since that first time he'd added little bits and pieces to the recipe he'd found on Google until it became his own personal masterpiece.
         "Can you change the channel?"
         
The blue light of the mobile shone on her face until she turned on the light by the couch. Her freshly washed black hair cascaded lazily down her back which made Nate miss a beat and he almost poured in too much Cumin. She had changed into different pajamas from the ones she had been wearing all day while working, a loose black cropped shirt and some striped pajama pants. Nate looked down at his hands, which were covered in meat and seasoning, but instead of asking her to do it, he quickly washed his hands and pressed the channel button on the remote. The television instantly changed from sports to one of Jasmine's favorite channels, TLC. Say Yes to The Dress was on and it showed a skinny blonde girl trying on a ballgown dress, completely unflattering on her bony figure, with a voice over of her calling her mother a bitch. "Why can't she have anything nice to say, just once? She's such a stubborn bitch and I'm considering kicking her out of the wedding all together." The camera shot changed to show a rather plump woman wearing several diamond necklaces around her neck and sitting cross legged on a couch next to two other women, zooming in on her face the camera caught a dramatic eye roll as she took a sip of her champagne. The screen changed to a commercial for a different show, Toddlers and Tiaras. More girls in ballgowns splashed across the screen, but this time they were children.
         Doing his best to ignore the shows he considered "reality gone wrong" he poured the meat and freshly chopped vegetables in the pot to cook over a low flame. Crossing to the fridge he took out a can of tomato sauce and added it to the mix before placing the glass top on and letting it simmer. Cleaning up he tossed the excess bits of the vegetables into the bags they came in and placed them in the trash compactor. Gathering the spices, he placed them back in the upper cabinet, then bent down to a lower cabinet. He took out a bottle of Pinot Noir and began opening and pouring two glasses, handing one of them to Jasmine as he passed her on the way to the couch. Looking back at the blue clock on the wall by the fridge he timed thirty minutes in his head, pulling his feet up and placing them on the edge of the coffee table. Jasmine's gaze never left her phone, but she turned away from the light and sat on the couch opposite him, pulling her feet up and placing them on his lap. Knowing the drill, he began to massage her left foot. Taking a big gulp of wine with his one free hand Nate glanced at her and decided now was as good a time as any.
         "So, guess who I got a call from today."
         "Hmm?"
         "My mom."
         Jasmine spared him one two second glance before going back to her phone.
         "Great, what'd that bitch want?"
         "I didn't answer. But she left a message asking me to confirm my presence at her dinner party tomorrow night."
         "Oh right. That's tomorrow night."
         "I said that we'd both be there."
         Jasmine spared another, longer, side-eyed glance at him.
         "Thanks for asking me."
         "You know I need you there. If you don't come, I'll never get through it."
         Sighing to herself Jasmine nodded in agreement. She took a sip of her own wine as she giggled at her phone. Doing his best to not seem nosey, his eyes glanced over to her screen, seeing text but not able to read anything.
         "What's so funny?"
         "Oh nothing. You wouldn't care."
         "I also heard from Zack today. He called to check in and asked if you'd gotten his text."
         "Wait, really? He asked you about that?"
         "Yea, I take it you got his text?"
         "Yea, I got it."
         Downing the rest of his glass Nate got up to grab the bottle of wine, unaware that bringing up Zack had caused Jasmine's fingers to momentarily freeze as she was typing. Jasmine placed her phone down on the coffee table as she got up and disappeared into her office down the hall. Sitting back on the couch Nate heard the phone buzz and curiosity got the best of him. He didn't know her password and apparently couldn't read the text that had just come in, as it just came up as a "notification". All he knew was that it was from an unnamed number. His mind started asking a million questions all over again. The whole Mr. Shnapps thing was going to make him go crazy, he knew he had to either ask her about it or forget he saw it. He sighed to himself as Jasmine walked back into the room.



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