[ "i just" hangs in her text box for a long moment, because she knows why she gave it to him. she does. but that's treading a little too close to the topic that's been avoided for over a month now, one neither of them are keen to speak on, remember, or even have a passing thought about (does he even think about it? maybe she's the only one who struggled so much then).
c'mon. normal, like a friend. ]
Isn't it normal to tell the people you know when and where you moved to?
[ nevermind that this has been her place for the better part of november and she's been pacing trying to convince herself of that very normal thing she said. overthinking what he might think of it and then getting tired of herself. ]
[ it would be a lie to state that event hasnโt reshaped a part of their relationship. not just in the context of it having been an awkward misstep either. even now, he isnโt sure what to make on this emotion or if it was even his to begin with, and as much as it would make far more sense to establish a firm boundary, wellโฆ it was all too easy to fall into the same song and dance they always had.
maybe because she was familiar. too familiar, actually. whether it was in her exuberance, drive, or even grit. of a certain selflessness she exudes, and he can almost feel it on him like he was being chastised. ]
if you wanted a nice housewarming gift you can just say so you know i know you lol
[ no............. can you not just keep it for yourself, buddy.
there's only a thumbs up reaction to his last text, she's not giving his tease the time of day (because he's right, she does run around everywhere, coffee might just worsen that)... and for some reason
the apartment simply doesn't look clean enough. it is, of course, because both angela and yesod are Neat Freaks that keep it tidy, but malkuth has an hour to kill and energy to spare already. she adjusts the framed drawings on her wall. reorders her pens to look nice. fluffs the mismatched throw pillows. put away the twenty-first mug that's appeared the moment she turns her back to the table.
realize she has nothing to do and lay on the less than comfortable couch, stare at the ceiling, and then fetch her sketchbook to draw... draw what. the page returns her blank expression.
... ... ...
is her outfit okay? should she wear something nicer? it's fine. she went out earlier, so it isn't like she's in her pajamas or anything, but would he think-- he wouldn't think she was dressing up just because she was having company. because she was having his company. her ears twitch, restless, and she gets up again to look at her closet just in case.
returns to the couch and flops face down, gets up again to retrieve her felting needle and work some foxes. there. that's fine. that's productive and sure to kill the... the forty minutes she has left minimum, oh my god, why has it felt like forever already. at least it'll pass the time and muscle memory will let her sort her thoughts about being so excited to have him over.
(was it okay to say his company was the best gift? she'd say it to her foxes too, but...) ]
[ despite the time frame he provided, it does take him a second to get dressed and get his tentacles in order. they've become a lot less mindful overtime, and he's been having a harder time finding clothes with the right fit to allow them breathing space. first world karteria problems aside, he does end up picking the coffee maker, but he also couldn't just leave it at that, right? he also has a small canvas painting of something he showed her while she was working on her own assignments.
honestly, he did wonder if it felt too personal, but considering all that's happened... well, sometimes he thinks it may have been easier to leave it in her hands then for it to come back to him. he isn't sure if he's trying to forget that period of time after [redacted], or if he was simply just trying to escape from the idea of thinking too strongly of home.
...
he's not too late, all things considered. give or take ten minutes on top of that hour, but he is also holding a box of cake. maybe the tentacles aren't entirely useless in this moment as the bag holding the coffee maker is hung out on one of them when he uses his foot to knock on the door. ]
[ ten or so minutes doesn't matter when she's trying to get the fur to blend right on a fox. it's insanely hard to get it cleanly separated, nevermind letting it "bleed" through at the paws and tail...
... but it does mean she earns herself a bleeding thumb when it pushes through wrong, the sudden knock the culprit, and she sticks the small wound in her mouth as she sets her project aside and crosses the threshold to open the door
she doesn't think she's seen his tentacles before, so give her a moment to stare with a rather curious, researcher-esque look before her eyes pull back to rafayel and she smiles around her thumb, taking out the injured digit to reach for the bag it's holding. ]
You've moved down to second if that sweet smell is what I think it is! [ yummy cake. ] Make yourself at home, just don't touch the books. With any part of you.
[ on the shelves and some stacked neatly at the end table of the sofa, thoroughly a bookworm's abode... oh, her thumb's started again, she's making a face at the blood before stepping back to let him in. the square catches her curiosity too, a thought to what it might be (canvas?) settling against her heart at an odd cadence before she brushes it aside and continues. ]
I didn't expect you to come with more than just the coffeemaker, though... Did you bring an actual housewarming gift from the heart on top of it?
[ he can recognize the intrigue in her gaze and for a moment, he waves his hand that is still holding the box of cake in front of her face. his lips moving to say— ] Hey, eyes up here. [ annoying per usual, before he walks right in.
naturally, the statement of the books surprise him, but for now he tries to at least settle in first before taking a look. he places the coffee maker onto the table after prying it out of his tentacles reach, then he places his painting right next to it. he doesn't give it any real sort of fanfare, and seems to just leave it there as he would anything else; no preface or explanation behind it. instead, he reaches out and holds his hand palm up. ]
Why wouldn't I? You're my only student here. I'm not that neglectful.
[ her eyes follow the painting until its sat, staring back at her, and she doesn't respond at first as the familiar sight rolls over her. the lonely sea and its sunrise, sunset. her hand comes up after a moment, more thoughtless than responding to intention, as she tries to spot the color he might've ended up using. ]
[ he looks over at where she nicked her thumb. there's a pocket square he placed (mostly for appearances) in the chest pocket of his blazer, he does end up pulling it out. he dabs her finger with it a few times, before holding it down, applying enough pressure to at least stop the bleeding.
he hasn't thought much about the last time they were together like this, and the second he does, he tries to forget. instead, just letting the small tang of metal fill his head. ] No one yet. But, who knows. The person I'm with can be kind of fickle.
[ jk, or is he.
he did find the color. it's a blend of a bit of red, almost pink. it's subtle in some areas, and yet when the light catches it, it might be more evident. almost like a picture that changes. there's a certain spice in the air though, but also an almost floral scent. maybe that's a hint to how he's blended the colors. ]
[ the pressure on her finger makes her jump a little, like she hadn't expected her little prick to be what had caught his attention (why wouldn't it be? no one raises their hand to her first just to hold it; just as she has in every life, she reaches first), but she doesn't turn to face him, tilting her head one way and then the next to admire the odd property of the paint.
smells like... he'd used an herb, or something like that...? niki would be able to tell. it's nice though, warm like his hand. a touch floral. tasty, to her soul. ]
Your present company wouldn't consider herself fickle in the least, thank you! But you might be.
[ fickle's just another term for whimsy in the end, and after another moment she finally looks up at him. ]
Me? Is that your way of saying I should change my mind and take it back? [ there's a playful emphasis behind his words. when he realizes he's held her hand for a second too long, he's already releasing it, making a point to wrap the pocket square cleanly over it. patting it one last time, he also cocks his head to the side. ]
Too bad it already has your name on it.
[ mostly figuratively. she might not know it, but there's also some areas of the water, which display the trickling of light from the surface. he's also pressed so many different flowers into them. not unlike how he would leave a sketch or painting in abandoned houses he's found temporary shelter in...
he'd like to think this was also his way of repaying, or even consoling her. ]
[ because a word of gratitude doesn't feel like enough, or right in this instance, turning away as her ears tuck back and her tail wiggles happily on its own. she tests the hold of the handkerchief before walking further in, stooping briefly to pick up one of the felt creatures she'd been working on and throwing it at him.
it's a pufferfish!!! easy to make. ]
Get comfy, I'll get us some plates for the cake and then you can help me put that painting of yours up! I've got an idea for it, but it'll be hard to pull off by myself.
[ beeeecaaaause she's not tall enough!!!!! something to drink, too... coffee would take too long. juice? water... milk. milk's fine with cake. ]
[ he gives a subtle nod at her "promise." he's about to school her on the consequences of giving promises so willy nilly, but then he sees something flying in his direction. with his hands offloaded, he does end up catching it easily enough, and he turns to look at it, before: ]
Why are you giving me your self-portrait? Your new assignment?
[ a joke, even if he feigns being genuinely curious.
[ he's relieved if just because nothing comes flying at him from the kitchen. speaking of, when she opens the box she will see two very neat white shortcakes with different fruit in both. what she may also note is the lingering scent of fresh cream— it's clear he may have asked for more.
food shortage whomst jk ]
Wellll, considering I just walked through the door like two minutes ago— a little.
[ oh he went bougie for this. malkuth can't help her tail wagging, it smells and looks so good? two shortcakes... he'd intended to eat with her, maybe? jeez. might as well say "i only meant to buy one, but they were offering a deal so i got a second one too".
hmm. she won't point it out, she'll just carefully put them on their separate plates as prettily as she can manage... look at that concentration. she'll respond in a second. this is like surgery to her.
... ... ...
mission success... ]
I don't actually know if I'll be able to set it up the way I want, so I miiiiight have to invite you over again sometime... but I just knew exactly where I wanted it when I saw it in person. That's all! It's better to do something the moment it comes to you than to put it off, isn't it?
[ a different kind of inspiration, but one that's similar in its strike nonetheless. she starts to fetch the milk from the fridge when she pauses, staring at the leftover wine takasugi had given her, and then straightens again. ]
Want some wine? It won't be a lot in each glass, but I need to finish this bottle off sometime.
[ that's actually pretty close to what he would have said. or, maybe he would have hit her with "you look like you'd want two." but, he watches her concentration with a humorous tilt of his head, barely fighting the desire to spook her from behind as she does.
thankfully, that's an invasive thought he keeps in for today. ]
Invite me over again? You really want to put me to work, huh?
[ he says as if it's any real trouble. it's not, but he puts on the act regardless. when she opens the fridge, he does lean over the kitchen counter. ] Sure, I'll take a glass. I figure someone needs to offload it from you, or else.
[ a swish of her tail, then her ears flatten as she turns around with the bottle in hand. ]
Kelesis was a one time thing! [ a beat. putting the bottle down to get a pair of short glasses, not meant for wine but it's fine. ] And the other guys were drinking at Takasugi's birthday party, so I just-- I got carried away because of the atmosphere! That's all!
[ okay, but she's still two strikes? miss cannot handle her alcohol and that'll stay the same no matter what... she just won't be dying by liver failure this life. ]
Just for that, I'm definitely putting you to work. Who comes into another person's home and insults them?
not unlike a shark to blood, he hones in the fact that she's ... obviously embarrassed (it didn't take that guesswork), and so he feigns genuine consideration. ] Oh, really? Funny, because I remember someone giving orders to be fed and pampered all night? [ lol,
but, it's not like he wasn't a little flushed himself, and so he (temporarily) lets it go. in theory, at least. ] Sooo retelling stories now fall under being "insults"— there are a lot of rules in your new home.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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this is pretty unusual for malkuth, but at the same time... ]
if youre gonna try and do a treasure hunt
dun you think you should make the final destination a liiiittle harder
or is this an invitation for some fairys mischief
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It's nothing like that!
[ "i just" hangs in her text box for a long moment, because she knows why she gave it to him. she does. but that's treading a little too close to the topic that's been avoided for over a month now, one neither of them are keen to speak on, remember, or even have a passing thought about (does he even think about it? maybe she's the only one who struggled so much then).
c'mon. normal, like a friend. ]
Isn't it normal to tell the people you know when and where you moved to?
[ nevermind that this has been her place for the better part of november and she's been pacing trying to convince herself of that very normal thing she said. overthinking what he might think of it and then getting tired of herself. ]
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maybe because she was familiar. too familiar, actually. whether it was in her exuberance, drive, or even grit. of a certain selflessness she exudes, and he can almost feel it on him like he was being chastised. ]
if you wanted a nice housewarming gift you can just say so you know
i know you lol
[ but, she movedโฆ hm. ]
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something
that makes her stomach flip, kicking her desk idly before finally: ]
So I'll see you in ten?
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you know some of us are still in bed right
not everyone wakes up at the crack of dawn and starts running
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But is that a no? When can I expect you then? I'd like to be a good host...
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if you wanna be a good host
you dun think some people also wanna be good guests
is there anything you needed that you havent picked up yet
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A coffee machine... and a new set of colored pencils. But don't worry about that, the best gift you can bring me is yourself.
(One with a percolator is preferred!)
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how many cups of coffee were you planning to make with that
youre already running around everywhere
gonna be harder to stop you lmaoo
but okay okay
the best gift and the second best gift comingggg
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there's only a thumbs up reaction to his last text, she's not giving his tease the time of day (because he's right, she does run around everywhere, coffee might just worsen that)... and for some reason
the apartment simply doesn't look clean enough. it is, of course, because both angela and yesod are Neat Freaks that keep it tidy, but malkuth has an hour to kill and energy to spare already. she adjusts the framed drawings on her wall. reorders her pens to look nice. fluffs the mismatched throw pillows. put away the twenty-first mug that's appeared the moment she turns her back to the table.
realize she has nothing to do and lay on the less than comfortable couch, stare at the ceiling, and then fetch her sketchbook to draw... draw what. the page returns her blank expression.
... ... ...
is her outfit okay? should she wear something nicer? it's fine. she went out earlier, so it isn't like she's in her pajamas or anything, but would he think-- he wouldn't think she was dressing up just because she was having company. because she was having his company. her ears twitch, restless, and she gets up again to look at her closet just in case.
returns to the couch and flops face down, gets up again to retrieve her felting needle and work some foxes. there. that's fine. that's productive and sure to kill the... the forty minutes she has left minimum, oh my god, why has it felt like forever already. at least it'll pass the time and muscle memory will let her sort her thoughts about being so excited to have him over.
(was it okay to say his company was the best gift? she'd say it to her foxes too, but...) ]
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honestly, he did wonder if it felt too personal, but considering all that's happened... well, sometimes he thinks it may have been easier to leave it in her hands then for it to come back to him. he isn't sure if he's trying to forget that period of time after [redacted], or if he was simply just trying to escape from the idea of thinking too strongly of home.
...
he's not too late, all things considered. give or take ten minutes on top of that hour, but he is also holding a box of cake. maybe the tentacles aren't entirely useless in this moment as the bag holding the coffee maker is hung out on one of them when he uses his foot to knock on the door. ]
Delivery for the "best gift" is here! [ lol. ]
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... but it does mean she earns herself a bleeding thumb when it pushes through wrong, the sudden knock the culprit, and she sticks the small wound in her mouth as she sets her project aside and crosses the threshold to open the door
she doesn't think she's seen his tentacles before, so give her a moment to stare with a rather curious, researcher-esque look before her eyes pull back to rafayel and she smiles around her thumb, taking out the injured digit to reach for the bag it's holding. ]
You've moved down to second if that sweet smell is what I think it is! [ yummy cake. ] Make yourself at home, just don't touch the books. With any part of you.
[ on the shelves and some stacked neatly at the end table of the sofa, thoroughly a bookworm's abode... oh, her thumb's started again, she's making a face at the blood before stepping back to let him in. the square catches her curiosity too, a thought to what it might be (canvas?) settling against her heart at an odd cadence before she brushes it aside and continues. ]
I didn't expect you to come with more than just the coffeemaker, though... Did you bring an actual housewarming gift from the heart on top of it?
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naturally, the statement of the books surprise him, but for now he tries to at least settle in first before taking a look. he places the coffee maker onto the table after prying it out of his tentacles reach, then he places his painting right next to it. he doesn't give it any real sort of fanfare, and seems to just leave it there as he would anything else; no preface or explanation behind it. instead, he reaches out and holds his hand palm up. ]
Why wouldn't I? You're my only student here. I'm not that neglectful.
[ now show him your hand, clumsy. ]
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Who called you that?
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he hasn't thought much about the last time they were together like this, and the second he does, he tries to forget. instead, just letting the small tang of metal fill his head. ] No one yet. But, who knows. The person I'm with can be kind of fickle.
[ jk, or is he.
he did find the color. it's a blend of a bit of red, almost pink. it's subtle in some areas, and yet when the light catches it, it might be more evident. almost like a picture that changes. there's a certain spice in the air though, but also an almost floral scent. maybe that's a hint to how he's blended the colors. ]
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smells like... he'd used an herb, or something like that...? niki would be able to tell. it's nice though, warm like his hand. a touch floral. tasty, to her soul. ]
Your present company wouldn't consider herself fickle in the least, thank you! But you might be.
[ fickle's just another term for whimsy in the end, and after another moment she finally looks up at him. ]
Can I really have it?
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Too bad it already has your name on it.
[ mostly figuratively. she might not know it, but there's also some areas of the water, which display the trickling of light from the surface. he's also pressed so many different flowers into them. not unlike how he would leave a sketch or painting in abandoned houses he's found temporary shelter in...
he'd like to think this was also his way of repaying, or even consoling her. ]
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[ because a word of gratitude doesn't feel like enough, or right in this instance, turning away as her ears tuck back and her tail wiggles happily on its own. she tests the hold of the handkerchief before walking further in, stooping briefly to pick up one of the felt creatures she'd been working on and throwing it at him.
it's a pufferfish!!! easy to make. ]
Get comfy, I'll get us some plates for the cake and then you can help me put that painting of yours up! I've got an idea for it, but it'll be hard to pull off by myself.
[ beeeecaaaause she's not tall enough!!!!! something to drink, too... coffee would take too long. juice? water... milk. milk's fine with cake. ]
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Why are you giving me your self-portrait? Your new assignment?
[ a joke, even if he feigns being genuinely curious.
good thing, he's moving on already. ]
But, sure. You're putting it up already?
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Of course I am. Surprised?
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food shortage whomst jk ]
Wellll, considering I just walked through the door like two minutes ago— a little.
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hmm. she won't point it out, she'll just carefully put them on their separate plates as prettily as she can manage... look at that concentration. she'll respond in a second. this is like surgery to her.
... ... ...
mission success... ]
I don't actually know if I'll be able to set it up the way I want, so I miiiiight have to invite you over again sometime... but I just knew exactly where I wanted it when I saw it in person. That's all! It's better to do something the moment it comes to you than to put it off, isn't it?
[ a different kind of inspiration, but one that's similar in its strike nonetheless. she starts to fetch the milk from the fridge when she pauses, staring at the leftover wine takasugi had given her, and then straightens again. ]
Want some wine? It won't be a lot in each glass, but I need to finish this bottle off sometime.
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thankfully, that's an invasive thought he keeps in for today. ]
Invite me over again? You really want to put me to work, huh?
[ he says as if it's any real trouble. it's not, but he puts on the act regardless. when she opens the fridge, he does lean over the kitchen counter. ] Sure, I'll take a glass. I figure someone needs to offload it from you, or else.
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[ a swish of her tail, then her ears flatten as she turns around with the bottle in hand. ]
Kelesis was a one time thing! [ a beat. putting the bottle down to get a pair of short glasses, not meant for wine but it's fine. ] And the other guys were drinking at Takasugi's birthday party, so I just-- I got carried away because of the atmosphere! That's all!
[ okay, but she's still two strikes? miss cannot handle her alcohol and that'll stay the same no matter what... she just won't be dying by liver failure this life. ]
Just for that, I'm definitely putting you to work. Who comes into another person's home and insults them?
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not unlike a shark to blood, he hones in the fact that she's ... obviously embarrassed (it didn't take that guesswork), and so he feigns genuine consideration. ] Oh, really? Funny, because I remember someone giving orders to be fed and pampered all night? [ lol,
but, it's not like he wasn't a little flushed himself, and so he (temporarily) lets it go. in theory, at least. ] Sooo retelling stories now fall under being "insults"— there are a lot of rules in your new home.
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