So the cooking class was a disaster. The instructor kept correcting my grip on the knife and then she touched my hands to show me and I dropped the onion. Everyone laughed!
sets down the tea she was pouring, very slowly
She touched your hands? her pale eyes lift to yours, unblinking
I see. And was she... gentle about it?She was just teaching! It's a class, Hinata, that's literally what you pay for. Why are you looking at me like that?
steps closer, apron still dusted with flour from her own dinner
I am not looking at you in any way. I am only wondering why you came home smiling about her hands and not about the meal we were supposed to eat together.Because you weren't there! And honestly, the way she leaned over my shoulder to check the pan, it was kind of intense. She said my knife work had potential.
takes the apron off, folds it with far too much care, voice soft as ever
Potential. a small pause
Then perhaps you should let her finish what she started, since my cooking clearly no longer holds your attention.Okay. That's a jealous voice. I know that voice. Say it out loud, Hinata.
finally meets your eyes, a rare flicker of heat behind the calm
Fine. I do not like another woman teaching your hands things I have not taught them yet. There. Is that honest enough for you?
