clumsy_auror: (tea!)
clumsy_auror ([personal profile] clumsy_auror) wrote2006-12-05 09:31 pm

(no subject)

Distractions are a positive thing.

Books are somewhat helpful, but her attention keeps wandering; the television or music are even less effective. Doing something with her hands is a definite improvement, so Nymphadora's sitting on the couch with a scrap of fabric, a spool of thread, a needle, and her wand in her hand. She's practicing the sewing spells Molly taught her.

As a concession to Bernard's nerves, there's a blanket tucked around her legs, and a cup of tea on the table in front of her.
mnt_mike: (Turtle Unsure)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2006-12-07 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh now see, that's just music to my ears right there."

Mike flips open the top of the basket and retrieves one of the numerous zip-top bags. Just before he offers her the opened bag, he pulls it back momentarily.

"You're not allergic to raisins, are you?"

[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah." A breath. His fingertips creep up her side and back. "I'm afraid I scared Sunny and Anthony a little bit. I wasn't very good at explaining."

[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
"That you were sick and we had to go meet you at the hospital." He shrugs, focusing on her hip. "True enough."

[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
"No." He looks up at her, his eyes red-rimmed. "Are you okay?"
mnt_mike: (Turtle Attentive)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2006-12-07 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh well, then you'll love these. Think....fluffy gingerbread, but with raisins."

He offers her a cookie from the bag. There is the distinct smell of molasses.

[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Didn't think so," he replies, then sits up, shifting on the couch so that he's lying down on the outside now, facing her.

"So here we are. Both not okay."
mnt_mike: (Turtle Stoned Loopy Drunk)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2006-12-07 03:09 am (UTC)(link)
He beams.

"Wow I sure hope the novelty of making pretty smile like that never wears off."

[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
He nods, impulsively scooting forward to kiss the tip of her nose.

"But you're very quiet." He laughs, a little. "I feel pretty dumb, doing all the talking here."

[identity profile] the-woodpecker.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
"How do you mean, go forward?"
mnt_mike: (Turtle Idea)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2006-12-07 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
"For you, Kahlo, anything."

He looks at the cookies, and then looks back over at the kitchen.

"Do me a favor?"
mnt_mike: (Turtle Smirk)

[personal profile] mnt_mike 2006-12-07 03:39 am (UTC)(link)
"If your ball and chain ever makes you cookies like these can you scream out my name during sex?"
young_tmriddle: (dreamy)

[personal profile] young_tmriddle 2006-12-07 04:54 am (UTC)(link)
"A trip to Valdamar. It's all she's asked for, so I figured either Door or I will escort her there and let her stay a couple of days. Plus a ridiculous amount of toys and/or dress up clothes, of course."
aj_crawley: (simply this)

[personal profile] aj_crawley 2006-12-07 07:22 am (UTC)(link)
Crowley's wretched at this, and he knows it, but - well, it's odd. How hugging someone will never come so easy as hugging someone back.

"Hey," he mumbles, even as his arms fasten securely about her. "Should you be...?"

[identity profile] platonicowgirl.livejournal.com 2006-12-07 11:05 am (UTC)(link)
There's a knock on the door; not too hard, not too soft.

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