First and foremost, I thank you all for your continued support of this fanfic of mine. I know I haven't been updating for the last two months. But I am happy to report that I have done some progress and have cleared some of the important plot of the story. I am extremely sorry for the slow updates. Though I still am taking summer classes this summer, I hope that I can update Mine to Love every month. I would also like to express my gratitude for your comments. Reading them is such a joy and a fulfillment. As much as possible I'd like to hear feedback from my readers, in a way it helps me know if I am an effective writer. Again, thank you all for your love and support. Have a blessed Holy Week, everyone. And I hope you'll enjoy this one.

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When I got back to the kitchen, he already had plates set up on the bar station. I put my basket at the kitchen countertop as he was busy making something for lunch.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Making our lunch.” he answered, his back still facing me. I rolled my eyes with his obvious reply.

“I’m not much of a cook,” he continued. “To be honest… I’m a bad cook.” He spared me a look over his shoulder.

I approached him and saw that he was slicing some black pitted olives. Beside the chopping board was a plate full of pepperoni, ham, and bell peppers.

“Are we having pizza?” I asked. He turned towards me and answered, “Yup,” then his forehead creased a little. “You’re not one of those veggie-eating people…. right? --- though I swear I have nothing against them.” His concern for my food intake was a bit unexpected but welcomed nonetheless.

“Surprisingly… no” I replied.

He smiled at my answer and resumed to the task at hand. I moved to the left side of the counter.

“Can I help?” It would be awkward to be only watching him cook for our lunch. At least, I should do something with my hands.

I saw a little smile playing on his lips before he gave me his full attention. “Ah… yes, the magic words.” His eyes lit up at my bespoken rescue.  He handed me a wooden spoon and declared, “I slice, and you cook”. Then for a moment, his eyes locked on mine.

“Can you cook?” his question woke me up from my reverie. Uh-oh, one of my weak points. This is quite embarrassing.

“I’m afraid I can’t.” I honestly answered. I look down as heat is creeping to my face again. Now I know I’m really flushed and I do