[ The tone of everything changed, and so does his. It's not pleading. It's not- much of anything, really. But it's soft. Warm. He rolls up his sleeves. ]
Apparently I'm cooking. You may as well be around to eat it. It's-
[ He looks over at the recipe that Sypha chose. It hasn't quite clicked why she chose it, but he knows that he likes those things. Always found them comforting. Maybe she feels the same way.
The recipe calls for apples, of course. Which is why there's a basket of pears. That? He understands. ]
-it'll be okay. I've made it before, I probably won't fuck up.
no subject
[ The tone of everything changed, and so does his. It's not pleading. It's not- much of anything, really. But it's soft. Warm. He rolls up his sleeves. ]
Apparently I'm cooking. You may as well be around to eat it. It's-
[ He looks over at the recipe that Sypha chose. It hasn't quite clicked why she chose it, but he knows that he likes those things. Always found them comforting. Maybe she feels the same way.
The recipe calls for apples, of course. Which is why there's a basket of pears. That? He understands. ]
-it'll be okay. I've made it before, I probably won't fuck up.