[private]

[subversion]

It's been a few hours. No, the tea didn't help; he's nervous, twitchy, can't keep still. Obviously the thing to do is wall himself up in a kitchen and cook with ridiculous amounts of onions.

[[OOC: private to stripesandheels. Adult content further down.]]

Comments

[stripesandheels]

[She makes it back, mostly intact- no. Who is she kidding? One thigh high has come off her garter belt, and rolled down. Her dress is rumpled, her hair is a mess. She ignores him, as she comes into the room, and drifts to the cupboard to get a glass down for water.

Higher than a fucking kite, would be the expression.]

[subversion]

[He can see it. Damn it. He was here first, and what the hell has she done to herself? Idiot woman.

His fingers are properly drawn back, so he doesn't cut himself when the knife slips hard in the red onion he's dicing.]

... shit.

[stripesandheels]

Ow,

[She says, sympathetically, taking her water glass over to the sink to fill it up, cautiously.]

Are there bananas in here?

[subversion]

If they aren't in the fruitbowl, there aren't any.

[Clipped, curt and cold. There are other things on the counter - eggs, sugar, frozen peas and shrimp, mirin and sugar.]

[stripesandheels]

That is a pity. Bananas are an excellent source of potassium.

[She goes to put coffee on. Her heels click sharply on the tiles.

[subversion]

[The noise rings through him, annoying.]

There are avocados. Have one of those.

[stripesandheels]

I think I'll have an apple. Would you like an apple, Light?

[She lifts one out of the fruit bowl, and polishes it on her sleeve.]

[subversion]

No, I would not.

[The onion's chopped, and he'd have to approach her to get a lemon. Instead, he rinses his hands under the tap.]

[stripesandheels]

[She doesn't know he needs one. She takes one out, reaches for a knife, and cuts it in half, then in quarters, before hopping onto the counter and taking a bite out of one of the wedges.]

[subversion]

[Meanwhile, he's dried his hands on a paper towel and has been fishing around for a bowl and a whisk. The question's on the tip of his tongue: what did you do to yourself?]

You're a mess. How did you manage that here?

[It's the same tone exactly.]

[stripesandheels]

Ingenuity, determination, and a little bit of good luck. If you come near me, I'll shoot you.

[Just so he knows.]

[subversion]

[And then the bowl is in pieces, on the floor. Interesting. The way she says it blows through him, like it's an irrelevancy. His own words don't quite want to come out.]

Well. I hope you'll let me finish this first.

[Fortunately, the broom's in the opposite corner to her.]

[stripesandheels]

Hey, you dropped it.

[Why would he go and do a thing like that? She leans forward off the counter, to peer at the mess.]

That sucks, it smelled pretty good.

[subversion]

It's an empty bowl. You really are off your head.

[Except the room's full of the smell of the onions, more of a perfume than a pain, and it's offset by the shrimp in a way most wouldn't notice.]

[stripesandheels]

Great! I should hide your noodles more often, if it makes things smell like this.

[She eats another piece of the lemon.]

And I'm not that bad. I'm just a little buzzed. And you're just angry because I'm not impressed with you.

[subversion]

... you hid the noodles?

[He hadn't even noticed.]