Here’s my take to another of Samantha’s prompt from March last year. The prompt was before I met you and I had so much fun writing this story in particular. Hopefully, I will get back to this one sometime soon. I love Donald and Raphael.
A thwack resounded in the room as Raphael neatly chopped off the head of the fish. Soon, the fish was neatly divided into five pieces. He placed all the pieces in a bowl and turned on the tap; watching the water slowly become red. As the blood drained away, he caught a movement and raised his head to watch Donald drag a wicker chair to the patio. Raphael smiled as he noticed Donald cock his head slightly. He was certain that Donald’s gray eyes would be narrowed, and his mouth would be moving as he had a conversation with the chair about the best place to place chairs on the patio, so as to enjoy the sunset.The man was just crazy that way.
Raphael shook his head and stuck two fingers into the hole of the piece of fish he held; slowly pulling out the gut which he tossed into the garbage bag. He needed to remind Donald that it was his turn to take out the thrash, otherwise, the stench of rotting fish would invade the house. Quickly, Raphael cleaned the rest of the fish, neatly knotted the paper bag, and carried it to the door that led to the back of the house; taking care to drop the bag beside the door. He then walked to the sink, and rinsed the fish thoroughly.With that done, Raphael carefully rubbed the spices into the fish, and rolled the pieces of fish in flour until they were completely coated.
He raised his head and noticed that Donald had placed another wicker chair and a table on the patio, and was bent before a cooler. Obviously about to pull out the bottles of beer. He needed to hurry. With fast motions, Raphael placed the pieces of fish gently in the fryer, and watched as the oil sizzled, and the fish slowly turned golden brown. With the fish cooked, Raphael removed the pieces of fish from the fryer, drained them and set them on a plate. He tore off a small chunk of fried fish and nodded as he chewed. They would eat the fish with the steamed rice and vegetables he had prepared.
Raphael’s slippers slapped the marble floors, as he crossed over to open the doors that led to the patio, and walked towards the seats. Donald’s face brightened; his gray eyes perfectly complimented by the silver streaks in his pitch black hair, as Raphael approached him. “Finally! I thought you were never going to come out here. What the hell have you been doing in the kitchen?”
“I know you’re getting old, but seriously, are your sense of sight and smell so deadened that you didn’t notice that I’ve been cooking?” Raphael demanded, and settled into his seat. He opened his beer, and guzzled his drink; taking care to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.
Donald’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in exaggerated surprise. “You cooked? Holy shit! The world must be coming to an end. I can’t believe you actually stepped into the kitchen. I thought you hated cooking?”
“Yes, but that was before I met you. I have since then, come to realize that if we are both to live to see our kids settle into married life with each other, we need to have proper meals, and I do not see you volunteering.”
“Why should I? The fish is delicious,” Donald mumbled, with his mouth full. “Besides, with the way you look in that apron, and this delicious meal, I’m sure you will make a good maid. Now fetch me my cigar, if you please. ” Raphael considered replying, but changed his mind. Replying Donald was not worth it. Of course, that didn’t stop him from tossing a napkin at the idiot.