My Apron Mga Nobela at Kwento

“We bake cookies.” “Did I hear cookies?” Ms. Wagner chuckled. “Ms. Wager!” River continued to squeal as all her family walked in to help bake. “Hi, my beautiful little pups.” She smiled. “Come along, let’s get you and Harper your apron’s.” Ms. Wagner took them to the pantry and pulled out two little aprons that had River and Harper’s name embroidered on the front with cute little animals, hearts, unicorn’s, rainbow’s and little wolves all over the front and back.

I hate how my heart speeds up. “Fine,” I say, trying to sound bossy. “You start at the register. Just hit the big buttons. Don’t steal the tips.” He palms the register, giving it a once-over as if he's about to hack into NORAD. “Easy enough.” “Then work that, and catch up the orders.” I slide him an apron. It’s pink and has a cartoon muffin stitched in the middle. He puts it on without comment, tying it over his black workout shirt and too-big muscles. The sight does something to me that I don’t want to unpack.

As soon as they reached home, she rushed to the kitchen and took the bigger apron out of the bag before passing it to Mo Yuhan with glittering eyes. The man gazed at those expectantly burning hazel eyes and then at the panda printed apron in her hand. He pursed his lips, there is no way he was going to wear this panda print apron. He didn't make an effort to take the apron from her and she pouted, her lips a little bit as her eyes welled up with tears. If Mo Zihan would have witnessed this side of his goddess, then he would have surely if this was a parallel world or something.

He rubs one eye with his fist, smiles sleepy, and stretches his arms high, shirt lifting just a bit. “Pancakes?” he asks. Sleepy smile. Eyes half open. “Pro level,” I say. I grab a bowl. “You in?” “Always,” he says. He ties an apron. Blue. Soft fabric. Clean. It hangs loose at first. He pulls the strings. Ties a bow at the back. Tight. Neat. The apron has a small pocket. White trim. He smiles. Looks at me. “Ready, chef,” he says. His voice is playful. The apron fits perfectly now. He grabs a spoon. Stirs. The blue matches his eyes.

I asked calmly. He raised the apron and said with a pout, "I don't know how to wear this." I blinked I'm disbelief. "Huh? Who doesn't know how to put on an apron?" "Me. I never had to work shabby jobs so..." I shook my head at his ignorance, "you don't only wear it when working in 'shabby places'" I said with an eye roll. "You also wear it in the kitchen." "Oh. Never knew that."

With one hand, I pulled out the second apron, the one I had asked one of the stylists to make before coming. “Look, I even got you this.” She finally looks at me, and then at my outstretched hand, she collects the apron gingerly, it has her name written on it. I watch as her eyes widen, and the corners of her mouth quirks up, popping the dimple that is really ever seen, she likes it. I almost do a celebratory dance. “I don’t even know how to cook...” she starts, she was trying it on. I felt myself break into a large smile, just watching her,

Is that the reason he called because he likes my apron in retrospective. My apron is the only thing showing except for the back of my dress but the idea of making it hard for him softens realizing I actually need someone to talk to, to lessen the weight of what I'm carrying inside of me. “Thank you, you mean my apron” “No, I mean your dress. I saw you when you walked in” “I walked in…” I demonstrate with my hand. “I walked in through the backdoor so how can you possibly see me or…” I paused thinking for a moment.

The back door is linked to the kitchen and it’s wide open. Worn over my body and tied behind my waist is my apron and the lace. An ash coloured, long sleeve shirt hugs my torso along with sweat pants on my lower half. The shirt material is flimsy and can easily be torn. It’s one of the reasons it’s the most suitable for cooking. “Hey, kitten.” I respond in a suave tone, my hand accompanying a frying pan with hot oil in it. She came earlier than expected, I thought I could make a good meal before she arrived.

I assert. " Now that's more like it Miha, she takes a few steps to the rack and picks out an apron with 'Happy day coffee and bakery" written boldly on it. Here put this on, it's yours from now on." She hands it over to me and takes it from her. " Thank you ma'am." I collected it from her and tie the apron around my waist, Umm, who do I give he orders to when I get one?" I Ask while knotting the apron rope around my waist.

In my closet. She opened his bedroom closet and grabbed his plush robe, then pulled it on. Losing the apron , bra and panties for just the robe. You're a good girl aren't ya"He says.