She has way too much food prepared for him to say no. She's expecting it anyway, and she probably deserves it. Her choice was warranted, it made sense, it was reasonable, but it was still unfair. It was still cruel. Her choice still had consequences, and she had still left him there at that party all by himself.

What?

She almost says it out loud, questions his answer. She almost fumbles the phone, falls to her knees, goes into shock.

"Okay. Okay, yeah, I will see you soon."

She waits a second longer in case he has anything else to say. She waits for him to hang up, and then she immediately turns back to her meal preparation. With a deep breath in, she glances over the stove top and the oven door and the plates left to warm in the dishwasher.

"He said yes."

Greyson Connors

☉

he moves with a bit more of a flourish as he jumps into the shower, brushes his teeth, and dresses. an hour was... probably arrogant. between all of that, getting on the train, and then finally arriving, it's more like an hour fifteen, an hour twenty.
[break][break]
but eventually he does arrive, and hesitantly, his knuckles rasp the door in a knock, then two, then three.

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

He takes long enough, gives her long enough to bake something. Maybe something sweet will help smooth over the bitterness that they've been soaking in. She can only hope.

"Okay... pumpkin pie. Whipped topping.. whipped topping, I can't forget that part."

She hums, though her tune is nervous and hurried. Gwen brushes hair out of her face, unaware of the white streak she leaves across her cheek and in her hair. Over and over again she checks the clock. The hour ticks by and her front door doesn't make a sound.

Had he changed his mind?

She sets the pie off to the side just as the first knock sounds. Her anxiety flares, but so does hope and relief. By the third knock she is struggling to remove her apron and chooses to leave it on. She opens the door, eyes wide, staring up at him.

"... Hey."

Greyson Connors

☉

his heart is in his throat by the time he's done knocking and, when it swings open, he tries his best impression at a smile.
[break][break]
it likely falls short.
[break][break]
"...hey."
[break][break]
he replies back, the same hesitation creaking into his voice. violet hues lift, catching the flour on her cheek, and hair.
[break][break]
"you, uh, you have somethin-"
[break][break]
his finger twitches in front of his face, and but he finds himself instinctively reacting, bring it out to rub the powder from her cheek with a thumb.
[break][break]
"you had, uh, flour on your cheek."

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

Where his smile might falter, she is there to catch it. She pulls the weight, willing to put in the effort and offer her own, stronger smile in comparison.

But she blinks at his stuttering attempt at communication, eyes trail to his fingertips, confused by their reaction. Her brows crease, the flour on her cheek, slightly damp when it was applied, crinkles.

"Oh! How embarrassing. I must have gotten carried away, I'm sure there is flour all over the kitchen."

She blushes, her skin turning rosy and she glances down at her feet. In doing so, she holds onto the feeling of his fingers against her cheek and the breathlessness it had left her with.

"Are you hungry? I prepared a little something for you-- oh, and I got you a coffee."

Quickly, so as to not leave him standing by the door, she darts away awkwardly to return with a coffee. It is extended toward him, and she offers another welcoming smile.

Greyson Connors

☉

"happens to the best of us."
[break]
[break]
he offers, light-heartedly, soft and with a small laugh. his hand reaches up, patting his hair down as he attempts to navigate the odd feeling in his chest. despite their odd, and slightly painful, first meeting, he'd never felt this awkward around her.
[break]
[break]

before he could give an answer, she runs off, and returns with the caffeine. the idea of drinking it made his stomach turn a bit, but he plasters another small smile on his face.
[break]
[break]

"thanks, and uh, yeah, i guess i can eat."
[break]
[break]

it'd been at least two days since his last meal.
[break]
[break]

"did, you uh, need help with anything?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

She laughs lightly, and although the noise is not forced or strained, there is a note of awkwardness behind it.

Happens to the best of us, he said, but somehow it feels like maybe he hadn't meant it in the way she's picked it up. She isn't the best of them, clearly, or she wouldn't have left.

But she'd had to.

"Oh, uh-- you don't have to eat if you aren't hungry. I just sort of.. I cook when I'm anxious. It helps relax me, put my focus on something."

She babbles on a bit, relieved when he takes the coffee from her, oblivious to the flip-flop of his stomach at the prospect of caffeine. But his offer to help brings her back up and she stops, exhales, and meets his gaze. She searches his violet hues for a moment, lost in thought, before responding.

"Uhh, no! No, I think I have it all handled. Actually, I think the second pie is just about done, if you wanted to pull it out of the oven for me to cool? I can handle the plating."

Second pie, because one hadn't been nearly enough to convey her feelings.

Greyson Connors

☉

her own laugh brings his breath to a hitch, catching in his chest, and forcing him to turn his face away for a moment as his skin takes on a vermillion hue.
[break][break]
he brings the coffee to his lips, thankful for the excuse to cover his face. pumpkin spice huh? an interesting flavor.
[break][break]
"no, no, it's okay. i'm hungry enough to eat. and yeah, i can take it out of the oven, too."
[break][break]
he smiles, reassuring her, as he steps inside and works to remove his coat. it'd been chilly five minutes ago, now he felt like he'd cook alive inside of the stitching.
[break][break]
"it's, uh... a nice place. where's the kitchen?"

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

"Thank you!"

She calls from over her shoulder, already in the kitchen. Nerves make her incredibly fast, apparently. So when he eventually asks, from the front entry, where the kitchen is, Gwen says the first thing to come to mind:

"Marco!"

And then she waits, plates clinking together softly while she sets them on the counter. The glasses are next, and she fishes for the pitcher of ice water. Hopefully, if he plays along, she's able to repeat: "Marco!"

mission: feast or famine

Greyson Connors

☉

while she wonders off, his tries his best not to really touch anything. there was the level of awkwardness of being in someones house for the first time, then there was added level of being awkward with them. that made any potential furniture item a ticking time bomb in his mind.
[break][break]
settling to just... linger near the doorway, his ears perk at her voice.
[break][break]
'who's marco? a new pokemon?'
[break][break]
the thought lingers when she does it again. he visibly jerks in recognition.
[break][break]
"...polo?"
[break][break]
he moves to follow the sound of dishes, and the aroma of food. he's met with gwen, still in her apron, moving about busily. when he catches sight, he comes to a stop in the doorway.
[break][break]
"polo."
[break][break]
then, he moves to take the pie out of the oven.

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

In her attempts to ease the awkwardness, she worries she's making it worse. But he responds: '...polo?' and it gives her hope and a sense a relief. So she repeats herself, more encouraged, thrilled to hear him polo again and again.

He finds her, though her house is not that big, and she offers him a warm smile when he appears. But her attention is short because she's busy plating and hurriedly cleaning up after herself. There is no need to have a spotless kitchen, by any means, especially given the meal she's prepared- but she is in slightly more disarray than usual.

"You can just set it down on that hot pad there."

She gestures to the spot next to her, and she slides the plates down farther to give him room.

mission: feast or famine

Greyson Connors

☉

"got it."
[break][break]
his eyes flit around the kitchen, landing on the oven mitts clustered together nearby. with one in either hand, he opens the stove, feeling the hot air blast his face. with a slight grunt, he places the pie on the pan.
[break][break]
"you really went all out here."
[break][break]
this was a lot of food for just the two of them. she must've been really stressed.
[break][break]
"it, uh, looks really good though."

[attr="class","ooc"]Guinevere Auclair[break]


[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-comfey"]

"Yeah.. yeah I like to keep my hands busy when I'm--"

She licks her lips, hesitates, looks away.

"--Stressed."

The glass in her hand clinks quietly against the countertop before the sound of water being poured into it follows. She smiles, though, puts on a brave face. And, with expert skill and fluid motion, Gwen balances the plates and drinks across her arms to carry them into the dining room.

"You really don't have to eat if you aren't hungry."

mission: feast or famine

Greyson Connors

☉