Special Treatment

“Huh?!” I exclaimed in pure surprise.

“Why are you so shocked? We’re in a kitchen, there’s a bunch of ingredients and cooking tools, and you can cook. Cook us some lunch, little girl,” he said as if it was really the most obvious solution to our problem.

“Can you not call me a little girl…” I said softly before I could stop myself.

“You don’t like it? I think it’s rather cute. What about little maid instead?” he suggested before he grinned playfully at me.

“Nevermind…” I whispered in resignation.

“A cute name suits a cute girl, no? I’m hungry…can you start cooking already?” the man said before he chuckled in pure amusement.

“Umm…sure…” I replied while still confused at this sudden turn of events.

It seemed like our quest for food ended up with me cooking for the both of us. Honestly, I didn’t mind cooking. It was something that I enjoyed and did very often when I lived at the orphanage. Just standing in this kitchen reminded me of home, the orphanage, along with all the girls t