Ilad, Isabel, Kitty
So at long last, the sun is setting. When Ilad enters the lounge, he bears a large flat white pizza box, braced against the palm of his hand and against the set of his shoulder, and carries three chilled water bottles in his other hand. He is dressed down, in a T-shirt of faded grey with printed Hebrew letters on it and a pair of jeans worn close to his legs over dark sneakers. He looks ... drained, but this is probably to be expected.
Kitty has already flopped in the lounge, claiming a couch to herself as she sprawls out. There doesn't seem to have been an effort to get dressed for the day, hair pulled back in a messy pony tail, pajama pants that feature Batman hanging on her hips with an oversized University of Chicago t-shirt. Her Star of David necklace has been tucked between her lips instead of food, sucking at it absently as she waits.
You would think one would be prompt, when one has not eaten for twenty-four hours. Isabel is not. In fact, she is a good fifteen minutes late when she appears, hair loose and messy around her face, tee and jeans casual. In fact maybe that is late enough that you want to pose around me once or twice I DON'T KNOW.
Perhaps this will give Ilad a time to exchange mild courtesies with Kitty, to lay out the pizza box on the table and prop it open: it is half a meaty extravaganza of toppings, half simple extra cheese. Once propped open, he can apportion water bottles, lay out paper plates and napkins, and flop himself down on the sofa nearest with a whuff of breath like the expulsion of an energy drain. He can slowly drag a slice of pizza onto one of the plates and rest it in his lap.
Watching the time, there is a soft laugh for Ilad's noises, Kitty spitting out her necklace to let it fall back to her chest before she starts to push herself up to a seating position. A greasy lock of hair is twisted away from her face as she reaches just for a water bottle. "We should wait for Isabel, shouldn't we?" she starts asking, likely only moments before the other woman arrives.
And look, here she is! "Sorry," Isabel excuses as she slides into the room, gaze slip-sliding from Ilad to Kitty to pizza. She looks... drained. Perhaps more than is to be quite expected. She snatches both plate and water bottle with telekinesis and says again, "Sorry, go ahead," as she cracks the latter open for a long swallow.
"Careful," Ilad advises, with a slight curve to his mouth as he glances across at Isabel, his eyebrow cocked. He lifts his plate to his mouth and takes a first nibble off the corner of the slice of pizza without lifting it off; he chews slowly, swallows, and lowers it to take up his bottle. "If you go too quickly you can make yourself sick. It is strange," he adds, "doing this ... in a building full of people who are not doing this."
Though Kitty starts to gulp at the water, she slows herself at the reminder, finishing with a slow sip to pull it away from her lips with a soft smack and a quieter "ah". Her head tilts to Ilad, hazel eyes flicking from the man to the other woman. "Is it? I've always, you know. High school, college, here. My first year of fasting was the first year I was at Xavier's," she offers in explanation.
"I'm not dehydrated," Isabel answers, lowering her water bottle and loosing it to let it hover in front of her. "I cheated." She flutters a hand at her midsection, indicating ribs (and the swallow of water she got with every painkiller). She steps around Ilad to slide a piece of pizza onto her plate, sloppy, and then turns away to drop herself (carefully) into a seat.
"Hah," Ilad says, on the low exhalation of a breath. He takes a swallow from his water bottle. "I have heard it said that it is not cheating when it is medically required. The Almighty does not ask of us that we hurt ourselves to make this sacrifice. But it is possible that my rabbi was not so strict as some in the rabbinate." He manages another small bite of pizza, this a slice of pepperoni pulled off and popped in his mouth. "Even when we came to America, I always fasted with my brother. This has been the first time that I fasted surrounded by the goyim. It is ... different."
Kitty's lips twitch into an agreeable smile at Ilad's words, nodding slowly as she takes another small sip of her water. "Just different, or worse?" she questions, friendly concern flickering in her expression with a brief look towards Isabel, which only causes it to deepen.
Isabel eats in silence. It's a silence that at least feigns attention well, with a noise of acknowledgment here and a sound of small encouragement there around her bites. She fixes her gaze on Ilad, waiting for his response.
"Ah, well, it is never easy, is it?" Ilad takes another slow and studied bite.
"Sometimes it is. We can always hope that it is," Kitty offers with a smile, small and self-concious, before she reaches for a piece of pizza herself. This one lacks the meat. "Well, I'm glad to have people to do this with."
"It's better than doing it alone," Isabel agrees, quiet. She nibbles her slice down to the crust, pausing to lick stray sauce from the curve of her thumb.
"Yes," Ilad agrees, with a glance toward the door and the hallway beyond, and all the ... lack of Jewish community it signifies, possibly. He continues carefully with the food. There are only so many interesting ways to write about eating pizza. "Thank you for joining me."
There are nibbles and bites and -- Yes, only so many. Kitty pauses mid-chew, a grin sneaking on her face as she replies firmly, "Thank you for inviting me. It's honestly been years since it was anyone besides me down in a kitchen, shoving my face full of food."
Isabel pauses mid-stretch for another slice, the reach of her arms carefully arranged. She glances quick at Ilad, then Kitty before claiming her slice, and then settling back she admits, "This is the first time I've fasted in years. So-- it's nice."
"Somehow," Ilad intones with a thoughtful, inward turn of his expression, "it has never been one for me to skip. Somehow ... there has always been something to remember." He taps his thumb once against the side of the paper plate, and then lifts his water bottle for a sip; before drinking, he murmurs: "Something to atone for."
Teeth drag along her lower lip, pulling it between to chew thoughtfully as Kitty considers Ilad's words, gaze flicking to Isabel almost as if seeking advice before she asks anyways, "What're you atoning for this year? If you want to talk about it, share, whatever." A bite of pizza promptly goes into her mouth to occupy it so that she isn't talking anymore.
Surely Kitty was not talking to Isabel. Isabel is busy eating pizza, head bent, expression obscured by the swing of dark hair.
Dark eyebrows lifting high over his dark eyes as he drinks from his bottle, Ilad lowers it to rest the plastic bottle against his knee. He observes mildly, "That is a very personal question."
Kitty nods, brows drawing slightly together in a wince as she acknowledges that. "Yeah," she murmurs as she swallows. "I kind of realized that. Sorry."
Contrary to Ilad's instructions, Isabel disappears her second slice of pizza rather quickly. She's still chewing her last bite when she slides to her feet (careful, always) with water bottle in hand. "Sorry to run," she totally lies, "but I've got-- things. Thank you for the pizza, Ilad."
Ilad turns a long look upon Isabel, as though in payment for her hasty departure, he will take her measure. "You are welcome," he says. Running his thumb down the curve of his bottle, he glances back at Kitty and, with the slightest twitch of his mouth up at one corner, does not otherwise comment on her question.
"Good luck with your things," Kitty offers towards Isabel, voice firmly bright as the subject turns away from her own blunders. Her water bottle is lifted in a salute before her attention drops back to her pizza.
Isabel's measure is easy enough to take - the discomfort in her expression and the shadow in her eyes are not particularly easy to miss, if you are looking. Neither is the uncomfortable curve of her smile in return as it slides from Ilad to Kitty and then, more genuinely, to the door. "Thanks," she says again. And then she goes.
Ilad takes another slow bite of his pizza and settles his weight in a backward lean against the sofa behind him, gaze narrowing thoughtfully. "It is not easy for you, is it?" he asks Kitty, once Isabel has left.
Picking at the crust of her pizza, Kitty blinks at the question, gaze returning to Ilad with curiosity. "Conversation?" she asks with a hint of playful humor, though it doesn't hide the real question behind it.
Smile slight, Ilad says, "If you like ... though ah, what I meant, the choice of questions. I seem to recall, you were uncertain on the subject before." He rubs his knuckles along the curve of his jaw, the beginning whispers of his beard resumed upon his golden olive skin. "Perhaps I misremember."
Kitty doesn't respond right away, her lip drawn back between her teeth as she worries at a loose piece of skin. After a moment, she lets out a soft exhale of air and fumbles to explain, "No. I like knowing. Interested, curious? But the questions come out wrong. The concern comes out wrong. People just end up angry or dislike me." Her shoulder rolls in a shrug that doesn't quite fake a carelessness before she nibbles at her pizza.
"I have always found," Ilad intones mildly, as he contemplates the mouth of his water bottle, "that it is a simple enough matter to just ... not answer questions that I do not choose to answer."
"It's not just the questions I have trouble with," Kitty admits with a wry self-deprecation, fingers tearing again at the crust of her pizza. "I've been getting better, but I have this stupid habit of shoving my nose into people's business, when I care. Kelsey and I fought about that once, never really was the same again." Her jaw tightens for a moment before her attention refocuses on Ilad in a study. "Why don't you answer? What's wrong with letting people in?"
"My personal affairs are hardly their business, are they?" Ilad returns, his question carrying a dry whisper of humor to go with the slant of his dark eyes. "Does your privacy have no value to you, then?"
Kitty's eyebrow curves upwards, a soft smile touching at her lips before she answers firmly, "It does, but only as far as it goes to keeping me happy. I don't think not talking about myself, sharing, will keep me happy." She pauses a beat, lips pulling sidewards thoughtfully. "I mean, if it does for others, that's great. I'm not saying people /have/ to answer."
"There is very little," Ilad murmurs, "that there is to share about me that will go towards making anybody happy, myself least of all." He lifts his bottle for a somewhat longer swallow, and then leans forward to collect a second slice of pizza from the box.
"It could make you friends. Friends normally make people happy," Kitty offers, a playfulness spilling into her words as she attempts to lighten the mood before she bites fiercly at her own pizza.
"Sometimes," Ilad answers very dryly. "And sometimes ... not so much."
Kitty's nose wrinkles up as she swallows down the food in her mouth before talking, politely. "Whatever. I could be your friend, and I make a very good friend. A happy friend," she replies teasingly in response to his dry.
"But for this, I must yield to your interrogation?" Ilad shakes his head, slowly. "I see."
"No. I guess for a limited time offer, I can be your friend, interrogation free," Kitty answers easily, moving her empty plate back to the coffee table. "Or, well, as free of questions as I can make it. The ones that slip out, you can always just not answer."
"That is a relief," Ilad murmurs, with the twitch of his eyebrows together as he glances across at her.
Kitty's own brows lower slightly, worry creasing her forehead softly as she completely fails at reading Ilad's expression. However, it passes quickly before she's pushing herself to her feet with another "Thank you, a lot. Really."
"You're quite welcome," Ilad answers, tipping his head in her direction and taking another bite of pizza. The rest of it will probably go to live in his freezer or something.
It is a lot of pizza to go to waste. There's an awkward wave before Kitty exits, too cool to use the normal exit and instead acting as a personal elevator to drop through the floor.
Breaking fast. Last night!