Chapter 67
The world as I opened my eyes looked very different from what I had seen and remembered from yesterday. The sunrays shone in a highlighted way, as if they were specifically there to enlighten the things they were to walk upon. The walls, too clean and organized, that it’s impossible even for my unused eyes to tarnish them in my mind. At first glance, it seemed like I was in a private, well-maintained, and high-paying room of a hospital, but for me, if there’s one thing that hospital rooms cannot ever replicate, it's the different fragrance only homes can make. The sweet and delicious aroma of the chocolate coffee coming from wherever had my olfactory senses waking up my other senses. 
I extended my hand, almost grabbing the sunlight confidently entering my room. The comfort it gave after even just a slight touch with my palm made me seek it for my body. So I moved my body towards it. I couldn’t help but breathe deeply while closing my eyes and catching every warmth the rays could provide.
Long gone are the days that could manage to elicit these kinds of fleeting transcendence from us- maybe just from me. I can’t have them anymore, the silent, neutral, calm, and timeless days. Where I can still walk my life in some ways I wanted, where I can pause when I truly wished to, and worked to the fullest after gathering enough zeal. Of course, I could only reminisce about how I loved those moments. 
Like a machine specified for reminiscing, my brain automatically started flashing captured memories of my mom breaking down at me yesterday as if she was the one taken away. I understand but she shouldn’t be so emotional specially now that her life’s transitioning to the point where her emotions play with her like she’s the baseball balla and her emotions are the bat. She, as usual, told me a lot, and just like any other young daughter who has a knowledgeable mother out of experience, I didn’t listen to almost half of what she said. I merely controlled my imagination at the beginning and near end of her speech. 
But don’t misunderstand me, I  don’t and never ever hated those moments, I even loved them. Just like how any man would love and respect their father but sometimes can’t help but disober them. Those moments were reminders, of the unconditional love my mom continues to bless me. So I will continue to let her be, even if-
“Miss Esmeralda?” A knock with my name being called instantly shattered my sunbathing therapy. 
“Yes?”
 I slowly walked my way to this room’s door as I cling to myself compensating for the warmth I’ve just lost. It’s fascinating how different things, places, and people give different kinds of warmth. 
“Master Lucretius wnts to ask you if you want to have breakfast?”
Oh, another kind of warmth, I see. ‘But…..can I accept this?’
“Sure, I will come as soon as I fix this room. Please tell him, thank you.”
The small display of mischievous grin from the unfamiliar maid didn’t leave my sight. I was somewhat influenced and curious. “ Why? “ 
She didn’t particularly hide her happiness from wherever it came from so I don’t think she intends to laugh at either me or Lucretius for something negative. 
She seemed a little shock that  had the guts to ask about her personal matter but you know, when curiosity gets the best of you, you can’t resist. Nevertheless, she finally showed her full-blown smile and responded politely. 
“It’s…it’s just so unexpected yet fulfilling seeing our master finally cooking for someone miss.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well…h-he is currently cooking your breakfast right now miss. He specifically ordered me not to cook for this morning because he’ll handle it. I thought he was just joking, which would never even happen, but he wasn’t. Maybe he is indeed changing because of you miss.”
I froze, can I really accept this? 
“Umhh, that’s nice.” I tried to somewhat not make it sound like a question as I nodded multiple times and added my goodbye as I re-entered the room and started fixing my bed. 
To be honest, the reason why I can’t accept nor respond and even catch up to any of mr. Lucretius’s signals are because I don’t even know how. I never had a boyfriend except the abusive one that I got which really messed up my perception of love, romantic love. Aside from that, I had nothing. My unconditional love from my mom felt very different. I don’t even know what’s happening right now, especially after being able to retain and understand some of my mom’s experience-based lessons yesterday. 
Slowly collecting my emotions and began walking down, it’s fascinating how my muscle memory could still clearly remember the exact orientations of this house. I was about to look for the things that might’ve changed but there he is, broad back facing me while cooking God knows what. 
They smell good but my senses seemed to be more focused on different things. This is one of the things I’m starting to lose as well, aside from the fleeting old days, I seemed to be losing control of my senses, most importantly my emotions, when I’m near this ma-
“There you are, good morning, would you mind tasting my breakfast?”
‘What?! How am I suppose to respond on that?’
Slowly hiding my exalted and currently blending emotion by sitting very slowly around the table filled with appetizing foods. Didn’t know anything your person of interest mak ecould feel so delicious and amazing. 
“Good morning too.” I forced myself to utter while pretentiously inspecting the foods displayed.
“Just tell me if you have anything to be discarded there, I don’t know what are your preferences yet. “
I had a hard time looking at him in a questioningly and offended, for the food’s part, way. 
“Nothing here seemed unfavorable for me, that would be a waste you know.” 
Growing up in a household where everything is communicated in a teaching or lesson way, I couldn’t help but adapt and integrate it. I also need to add extra sentences of lesson whenever someone seemed to be deficit of those.
"Alright, then prove it. "
"What?"
Out of maybe unfocused mind or digressed focused, I didn't instantly noticed him putting different piles of food in my plate. Which I didn't even know how I got it.
"Eat, we'll talk if you have thousands of questions rumbling your pretty little mind later."
'What?! Is that supposed to be a compliment or what?'
Out of sheer shock, I just began looking for something easily digestible from my plate. As expected of Italians, breads are the essentials of their meals in exchange for us being rice. But I respect and admire him for trying. He mixed the bread and rice in my plate in a somewhat organized way. Like how a person with an OCD might've arranged the foods in his plate. Beside that, at my right, would be a very evident chocolate coffee while at my left is a bowl of souped noodles, also evidently very tasty. Surrounding my plate in front are different sets of vegetables, and just by inspecting though my eyes, I don't know most of them, perhaps resulting from the differences in our economic, geographic, and cultural status.
Nevertheless, I began picking on some of them as I replaced the bread and chose rice as my breakfast.