(Untitled)

Mar 05, 2007 21:24

They've just finished watching Scrubs. Eden's legs are tucked up, close to Mohinder to steal glances at the Laptop of Non-Helpfulness. Nothing he's doing has worked and it's killing him ( Read more... )

milliways

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professorsuresh March 6 2007, 03:56:05 UTC
It is killing him, a little bit at a time.

He's sitting pretzel style on the couch, laptop in his lap appropriately.

"You didn't have to make me tea," he states, calling into the other room. Except she really did, because the circles under his eyes are stating a deep need for either sleep or caffeine, and he can't afford sleep right now.

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carefulwishes March 6 2007, 04:01:24 UTC
Eden has her own opinions about what could stand to be warming his lap, but she keeps them to herself.

She hesitates a moment before saying, "I never was much of a tea person before I met your dad. This stuff in particular. It's great."

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professorsuresh March 6 2007, 04:06:28 UTC
He listens to her talk with a growing sense of weighted responsibility coupled with weariness.

Sometimes he forgets that his father was human.

He can smell it now. "Chai?"

It brings back memories: warm feet against cool tiles, his mother's saree soft against his cheek, the water and brass mixing together against his shoulders.

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carefulwishes March 6 2007, 04:15:43 UTC
"It's the spices. I never thought about putting spices in tea." There's a self-deprecating chuckle. "Even living in wild and crazy New York didn't prepare me for the idea of putting spices in tea."

Well, she's done all she can here; the tea needs to steep. She leaves the kitchen and plucks the TV guide from the couch as she speaks.

Eden frowns as she reads. "According to Jim? Vile trash. Everybody Loves-- urgh, the soul recoils." She looks over at Mohinder, then at the TV screen. "Hmm...."

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