(no subject)
Roderich wasn't really baking, per se.
Well, he was. But he'd lost track of time. Namely because his mind wasn't particularly on the subject of baking anymore.
The apricot glaze had been poured over the cake, then chilled, and there was just a little bit left over. He moved on to making the chocolate glaze to go over it. He'd always been skilled at keeping it at a steady temperature, making sure it didn't burn or seize. It was second nature. So when he put the chocolate and sweet butter into the double boiler to start melting together, his whisk slowly easing the two ingredients into a smooth texture, it wasn't terribly difficult for him to lose focus.
He wasn't sure exactly how his mind wandered to his ex-wife, other than the fact that she happened to be staying over for a bit that day. Ex-wife. What a silly title, really. The fact that two people cannot deal with living under the same roof should not warrant such permanent terminology, he mused, the corner of his mouth curling up as he recalled some of the more pleasant times they'd had together. Pleasant, but not all were peaceful, of course - goodness knows they'd had some fiery romps, some lovers' spats, and the ones he was recalling just then had naturally resolved themselves with intense make-up sessions. A good deal of them after they'd already "split."
The bold, bittersweet smell of the chocolate and the thought of her body just seemed to meld together like the ingredients he was working with. He had a few images grace his mind briefly, and he kept them, repeatedly replaying them. A drop here, a drop there... the substance was so versatile, really, at least at this temperature. It could go anywhere.
The whisk kept stirring; he could do this for hours, or even in his sleep. It was all in the wrist.
Well, he was. But he'd lost track of time. Namely because his mind wasn't particularly on the subject of baking anymore.
The apricot glaze had been poured over the cake, then chilled, and there was just a little bit left over. He moved on to making the chocolate glaze to go over it. He'd always been skilled at keeping it at a steady temperature, making sure it didn't burn or seize. It was second nature. So when he put the chocolate and sweet butter into the double boiler to start melting together, his whisk slowly easing the two ingredients into a smooth texture, it wasn't terribly difficult for him to lose focus.
He wasn't sure exactly how his mind wandered to his ex-wife, other than the fact that she happened to be staying over for a bit that day. Ex-wife. What a silly title, really. The fact that two people cannot deal with living under the same roof should not warrant such permanent terminology, he mused, the corner of his mouth curling up as he recalled some of the more pleasant times they'd had together. Pleasant, but not all were peaceful, of course - goodness knows they'd had some fiery romps, some lovers' spats, and the ones he was recalling just then had naturally resolved themselves with intense make-up sessions. A good deal of them after they'd already "split."
The bold, bittersweet smell of the chocolate and the thought of her body just seemed to meld together like the ingredients he was working with. He had a few images grace his mind briefly, and he kept them, repeatedly replaying them. A drop here, a drop there... the substance was so versatile, really, at least at this temperature. It could go anywhere.
The whisk kept stirring; he could do this for hours, or even in his sleep. It was all in the wrist.