Az bugged me to post. So here I am.

I've never been a person to really take care of the "true" domestic affairs. Things like sweeping, mopping, cooking (especially), ironing, doing the laundry...all these drive me crazy. Especially cooking. Have I ever mentioned the first time I tried to bake a sponge cake and it turned out to be a rock cake? -_-

Being the eldest and very, well, boyish, I frequently deal with the electrical or mechanical stuff at home: repairing the TV, the PC, the home theatre set, the cooker, the lights...calling up maintenance for all these...dealing with the repairman...stuff.

So it was very much of a treat when I went to Az's house a few weeks back, and he offered to cook some pasta for the both of us. I mean, I helped with cutting the cheddar block into slices, and making two mugs of tea for both of us. But he did the cooking.

I enjoyed just sitting at the table and watching him busy himself about the stove, around the sink. He got weirded out by that, because I was grinning my head off watching him. It gave me a strange sort of contentment, though, gazing at his hands work. Don't ask me why; I don't know either. But no, it's not because of me thinking that he'd make a good potential husband or anything like that.

It was pure warmth and contentment. Simple as that. =)