INBOX

[vitainmorte]

Hello, this is Cypress. If you leave me a message I will get back to you as quickly as possible.

Thank you, have a good day.

Comments

[mourningson]

I never did say it, but I thought it'd have been obvious.

[vitainmorte]

[ shakes her head, not looking at him. ]

Even-- if it was obvious... I try not to assume that people would feel that way about me.

[mourningson]

I have no leg to fault you on this way of thinking.

But, you can know now that I think that of you.

[vitainmorte]

[ red-faced, of course.

but just lowers her head and goes back to cutting, trying to hide that privately pleased little smile. ]

... Okay.

[mourningson]

[...............................cute]

When you're done with that, hand it over. Also, do you ever intend to return Sashay's affection?

[vitainmorte]

[ well-- grabbing a bowl to put what she's already chopped in and hand it to him; they're all coarse and uneven and just generally terribly done, sorry.

confused, though: ]

... in what way?

[mourningson]

Romantically--deeply?

[taking the bowl and slowly dumping into the pot with some broth]

I assume that's what they were conveying, correct?

[vitainmorte]

[ frowns... ]

I already said I wouldn't... I don't-- even know if I'm capable of feeling that way, I said before.

... I care deeply for them, but I'm not-- in love... with them.

[mourningson]

If you develop feelings for them, let me know.

[vitainmorte]

...

I'm dating you, now, aren't I?

[mourningson]

[softens a bit from smiley jerkface mode]

...yes. We are.

[vitainmorte]

[ looks away-- and after a moment's hesitation, picks up the knife and cutting board to bring to the sink to wash. ]

Then-- if I somehow develop those kinds of feelings for anyone, isn't it most likely to be you?

[mourningson]

[blinks]



[wait what]

[vitainmorte]

[ surprise, that's the point of dating

anyway, she'll just silently wash the items because she's sure he's making a dumb face and she might die if she has to think about what she said too hard ok. ]

[mourningson]

[She's Right.

after a good moment of being frozen like that, he starts wordlessly grabbing some bowls and utensils, getting everything altogether—so he can finally hold out a bowl of soup towards her]

Here—it's done.

[vitainmorte]

[ flushed, but dries her hands and accepts the bowl with a quiet thanks, waiting for him before either starting to eat or heading to the table. whichever. ]

[mourningson]

[time to sit at the bar, where he just starts helping himself without looking over at her—it's a hearty beef soup, one that's been nicely seasoned]

[vitainmorte]

[ glances at him. then at the soup-- and it's bit awkward, currently, so she just puts her hands together in prayer and says grace in her head, quickly, before taking a careful sip from her spoon. ]

... oh...

Sunny, this is really good.

[mourningson]

It's not a bad dish—it's warm, healthy, and ought to increase stamina.

[vitainmorte]

It tastes good, I mean. I didn't know you were such a good cook.

[mourningson]

[mulls over that while on another bite]

It's a survival skill. I'm sure you can cook well, too.

[vitainmorte]

[ she huffs, turning back to eat the food. ]

No, I'm quite hopeless.

[mourningson]

...is your cooking edible?

[vitainmorte]

No, not at all.

I can make coffee. That's about it.

[mourningson]

Make something next time, and I'll prove it's edible.