Mind Games

Chapter Eleven: Run Before Walking

From an outsider's perspective, Kanas's home was a lot like his office. The design and architecture of the single-family building of both the house and office stood as the main focal point to that conclusion. The interiors were slightly different, his home carrying lighter colours and tones, though, to use Lucca's wording, it was still sophisticated and challenging. The classical order and strange beauty appeal she had picked up on in his office could, too, be found in his home with the antique flare of the furniture, and the European, gothic noir ordinates that decorated the space - almost in stark contradiction to the light colouring of the wallpaper.

But it created an intimate feel, like a marrying of two worlds. This was a house that came alive at dinner parties, and late at night when the stillness of Devil's hour brought thoughts into perspective.

Kanas's favourite room in the house, by far, was his kitchen. It was his own stage, housed for elaborate performances and grievous mistakes that only he was privy to... at least most of the time. Occasionally, an early dinner guest or the likes of Irene would grace the room with their presence and watch him cook. Watch the theatrics, much like he had done during Lucca's dinner party.

The kitchen was where Kanas had spent his day, precariously picking and choosing their meal, wondering if the cuisine he had chosen would delight her well-travelled senses while he skipped over the fact that the meal he was preparing for her was a particular favourite of his. Of course, he had considered the notion that he was cooking a favourite, not just to grace her well-travelled palate, but to impress her. To subtly show her something about himself, something about his past that she would no doubt pick up on with her well-honed senses.

Another reason he was cooking this dish was because he was feeling a little homesick, and sharing something so sentimental with Lucca was a pleasure Kanas could indulge himself in. Which was making him realise that he was taking Constance's advice a little more seriously than he told himself he would.

By the time the evening rolled around, soft music was playing as a background noise for the symphony of sounds and smells coming from the heart of the home. The flavours and scents of his adolescence had filled the air with a liveliness he thrived in, and the air was growing strangely anticipatory as the clock struck the hour of Lucca's arrival.

When the knock on his door finally came, fifteen minutes before he had been openly expecting it, Kanas delighted in the smile that breached his expression as he left the kitchen and went to the foyer, opening the door to an equally smiling Lucca.

"The similarities between your home and your office are striking, doctor," she says, stepping inside and allowing him to take her coat.

"I guess that you can say that I have a tase for certain aesthetics," he says.

Like Lucca.

Who was dressed immaculately, wearing a white dress with lace sleeves and a crochet middle, a soft v-neck with an open backing that showed a beautiful expense of her smooth skin, her hair done up in a bun with an arrow headpiece going through it, leaving her neck exposed for his greedy gaze.

Taunting him, showing her most vulnerable self without flaunting it for everyone to see. Reminding Kanas of Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and temptation, and he'd be lying to say he wasn't tempted.

Kanas was wearing one of his usual suits, tailored and perfectly fitted, his tie and pocket square varying shades of blue, respectfully, and patterned. His hair in its usual state, combed back from his face. He was clean shaven.

She smiled. "Food smells wonderful," she praised.

Kanas returned her smile. "I'm glad it pleases your sensitivity to smell," he says.