The next morning, Beauty slowly opened her eyes, the lingering grogginess of the fever making her feel a bit heavy. The sunlight filtered softly through the curtains.
As she stirred on the bed, she perceived a delicious aroma in the room.
Her stomach grumbled, and for a moment, she thought Jessie had come to take care of her after all.
"Jessie..."
Beauty muttered weakly, her voice scratchy and faint.
She shifted under the covers and realized she felt a bit better, her fever no longer burning as intensely. The towel that had been on her forehead was now resting beside her, and she noticed her clothes had been changed into something clean and comfortable, too.
She must have been really out of it for Jessie to do all that.
"Thank you, Jessie."
She muttered with a weak smile.
Curious and hungry, she pushed herself up with shaky arms, still feeling a bit weak.
Nevertheless, she was determined to go to the kitchen and say at least good morning to Jessie and thank her for coming to her aid in the middle of the night.
Every step she took was slow and heavy, her legs still wobbly from the night before. She dragged herself across the room, leaning on the walls for support as she made her way down the hallway.
As Beauty approached the kitchen, the scent of freshly cooked food grew stronger, making her mouth water and her head spin a little less.
She turned the corner into the kitchen, fully expecting to see Jessie bustling about... but what she saw instead stopped her dead in her tracks.
Her heart stopped, and her breath caught in her throat.
What in the world... She blinked a few times, thinking maybe she was hallucinating from the fever.
Standing there, with his back to her, was Bruno. But not just Bruno. Bruno in an apron. And not just any apron... an apron tied loosely over his bare chest, revealing the smooth, toned muscles of his back and shoulders. Her kitchen looked like a kid's play house because of his height and hugeness.
Her jaw dropped, and her eyes widened, tracing the lines of his strong arms as they moved effortlessly while he worked over the stove.
Slowly her eyes went below the apron, he wore nothing but a pair of gray sweat shorts, hanging low on his hips, showing off his well-defined abs and glutes.
He looked as if he had just stepped out of a fucking fitness ad!
An absolute beauty of masculinity.
Beauty blinked several times, still unable to believe or process what she was seeing for a moment. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded furiously in her chest.
"How... Sir Bruno is standing shirtless in my kitchen, cooking? Why is he here? And why is he so... hot?" she thought, her cheeks instantly flushing with heat.
She quickly bit her lip, trying to suppress the awkward smile creeping onto her face.
Meanwhile, Bruno was so focused, his eyes moving between the cookbook propped up on the counter and the pan he was stirring, completely unaware that Beauty was standing there, frozen in shock.
The way his muscles flexed every time he moved, his intense concentration as he tried to follow the recipe.
It was almost too much for Beauty to handle.
Beauty felt her face glow redder by the second, and she quickly tried to snap out of it. She wanted to say something, anything, but her voice caught in her throat.
"Why does he look so good in an apron? It's just an apron," she thought, mentally kicking herself for even thinking about it.
And when he turned slightly to reach for something, Beauty's eyes went wide at the full display of his length pressing against the fabric, so low she could see the V-shaped line, and that long weight of his...
"Oh... my God." She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the gasp that escaped her lips.
This can't be real.
Bruno, hearing her voice, froze mid-action. He turned around, his eyes meeting hers, and for a second, there was just silence... thick, awkward silence.
"You're awake," Bruno said, gently setting the pan down and walking toward her.
Beauty forced her eyes up to his face, unfortunately her eyes went back down there, measuring.
As he walked closer to her and all she could think about is the size curved to his left side, too big for the gray sweat shorts.
She covered her face with a hand and yelled inside.
"My poor eyes!"
Bruno stopped in front of her.
"How are you feeling?"
He asked, concerned.
Beauty opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a stammer.
"I-I... uh... better... I mean..." She couldn't stop her eyes from flicking down to his lower abdomen, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she tried to look anywhere but at him.
"How is your fever?"
Before she could even think to respond, his large, warm hand was on her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face to check her temperature.
"Oh my god, too close!"
Beauty screamed inside.