oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck. is she really doing this? she should turn around. she should put the crockpot on the floor and leave the soup and turn around and l-e-a-v-e. she should just go home and stare at her phone like a piece of shit and wait for yumi to text her for another meaningless romp in the hay. 

but she stands like there a fucking deerling in the headlights and blinks when the door opens. 

her grin cracks, smiling wide, shaking off the rest of the frost that had been climbing up her sides. seeing her makes it easy. it always works out that way. 

"i made soup," she says simply. "'cause if you're bitch enough to complain about a cold over text to me, figured you might end up dead from helplessness. and also this soup's really fuckin' good."

she shifts her weight. "so...can i come in?"

Yumi Hasegawa

☉

her voice is nasally. yep, definitely sick. well, at least it hadn't been an excuse not to see parker. not that yumi seemed like the type to make up an excuse. nah, she'd tell parker right to her damn face. she smiles at the thought and hefts the crockpot when yumi lets her in. 

it takes one look-over to take in all the information surrounding her. while yumi goes to recline on the couch, parker heads into the kitchen. she sets the crockpot down, but doesn't fiddle for a nearby plug. the damn thing stopped working a couple years ago. then she dares take off the top and sighs in relief when steam wafts up into her face. 

parker makes herself at home by rummaging around in the cupboards. there are enough cutlery and plateware for two people, she notes lightly to herself. 

"bone marrow," she says when she finds the bowls. her hands aren't manicured, but she'd taken care to scrub the grease off of them. the day before, she'd been taking apart a car for parts. but her hands are still rough around the edges and give her pause when she reaches for the polished ceramic. 

pink hair is swept out of her eyes with a toss of her head. she scoops the soup in and rummages for a spoon, dunks it in, and goes to stand over yumi. 

"but with vegetables and budew wine and shit. it's good. you'll be better by tomorrow, i swear."

Yumi Hasegawa

☉

"yeah, not worried about that," parker says with a roll of her eyes. "you look like shit." and she probably feels like shit. shit enough for parker to bat her around like a punching bag. no, ass-kicking is completely off the table. but she's no reason to worry anyway. her soup's delicious and she knows it. 

so explain the nervous sweating in her palms when she takes a casual seat across from yumi. she gives her a wide berth. she's not an idiot and beating people's heads in when your own is full of snot isn't her idea of fun.

the common cold is parker's undoing. 

"'course it's good. and why, cupcake, y'want me to leave?" she lets her cheek fall against her shoulder, looking sideways at yumi. seeing all of her angles again (but this time with more clothes on). her eyes betray her hunger. 

"so... you got a roommate or a girlfriend or somethin'?" she says, gesturing to the coat hanging by the door. a coat that's not yumi's size. "scare 'em off with your sick cooties?" 

Yumi Hasegawa

☉

"don't think i'm in danger unless we swap spit," parker says, which is not how that works at all. she sticks her tongue right back out at yumi and gives a dumb waggle of her chin, eyes widening to enforce the silly expression. then she sinks back into the chair and props her heels up on yumi's coffee table.

roommate. hackles down, parker. she's awfully possessive when she shouldn't be, not that she'd ever admit to that.

parker rolls her eyes. usually that means a sharp tongue. "i'm more than a hot piece of ass, y'know," she says with a snort. "sticks and stones just work better. that's how the saying goes, right?"

pretty sure it was parker's playful knock to the head and not yumi's venomous words that scared the shit out their target the other day. granted, she's pretty sure those words will stay with him long after his nose heals. 

Yumi Hasegawa

☉

"oh shit?" it won't take a genius to see the discomfort that washes over parker's face and her frame, despite her hasty attempt to cover it up with that cocksure half-smile of hers. internally, though, she's thinking shoulda just fuckin' stayed in my lane. what's on the top of her no-no list? getting chummy with fellow rockets. 

'cause fellow rockets are always in deeper shit than she is. 

"yeah, sure," she says quickly, eager to move past it and shove off the thoughts of an assassin sits in this chair. yumi's cool that her roommate just kills people. does yumi kill people? 

"i mean, no. yes, i do, but my place is a shithole. grade a shithole." she props her head in her hands, elbows balancing on her legs. that smile widens. "i'll take ya out though. proper dinner and all."

Yumi Hasegawa

☉

the shitty burger joint down the road is absolutely not someplace parker would take yumi to if she's trying to impress her. now, there is that place about a ten minute walk from here. she'd worked as a hand for hire for the restaurant owner; shook down his silent partner when things got complicated.

it's way out of her pay grade, but she could probably call in a favor...

"the atelier?" she tries hopefully. five star, to-die-for kalosian cuisine. surely that'd impress yumi. 

Yumi Hasegawa

☉