Lightning Farron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
soggypastry) wrote2012-02-13 08:26 pm
soggypastry) wrote2012-02-13 08:26 pm
026 [Video/Action for Cherrygrove PokéCenter]
[Hi, Johto. Hve you been enjoying your...odd weekend? Hopefully so, because it's about to get weirder. Enjoy your view of Lightning hunched over a stove in the Cherrygrove Pokémon Center, stirring something in a pot. It's an odd sight, both with her hair twisted up into a messy bun and the fact that she's...actually cooking. Anyone who knows her knows that's not a good sign. Especially when she's starting to look a little bit frazzled.]
No, no, no...come on. Don't you dare burn.
[Yes, she's talking to her pot of...something. Unfortunately, this doesn't help her with the cooking and it's with a rather frustrated sound that she takes that pot off the stove, camera tracking her movements while she places it in the sink before scrubbing her face, leaving smears of chocolate down her cheeks as she takes a breath to regain her composure. Is she giving up? Not on your life.
She's just turning back to the counter, where there's enough ingredients for one more try along with a recipe book she's looking back at.]
You could always help, you know.
[A startled "Pika!" and...end feed. Spark still enjoys being Camera-chu, it seems.]
No, no, no...come on. Don't you dare burn.
[Yes, she's talking to her pot of...something. Unfortunately, this doesn't help her with the cooking and it's with a rather frustrated sound that she takes that pot off the stove, camera tracking her movements while she places it in the sink before scrubbing her face, leaving smears of chocolate down her cheeks as she takes a breath to regain her composure. Is she giving up? Not on your life.
She's just turning back to the counter, where there's enough ingredients for one more try along with a recipe book she's looking back at.]
You could always help, you know.
[A startled "Pika!" and...end feed. Spark still enjoys being Camera-chu, it seems.]
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But, just like him, she realizes that all great things must end and only makes a tiny moue in protest when they part. The faster this is finished, the faster they can get back to the more important things....if he lets her go or she steps away. Which she doesn't want to do but does anyway, measuring off the ingredients as Spark does his Pika-laugh, having watched the whole thing. Silly trainers.]
I should have had Serah teach me how to do this, huh?
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I wouldn't exactly call this an essential skill. We're not really chocolate people, you and I.
[And yet, here they are, making some. Not that he can complain, really. He glances at the recipe book: truffles, chocolate and lavender. Sounds simple enough. While the water in the double boiler (okay, let's be honest--a saucepan with another saucepan on top) comes slowly to a boil, he works on chopping the tablet into even bits.]
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I know that, but I was talking about actually knowing how to cook. This would be a lot easier if I knew how.
[Well, knew how to cook without burning everything that ended on a burner. She'd read cookbooks and taken the occasional class, but none of it stuck. She was just unlucky with the thing and she was okay with that. Especially if it meant leaning some weight against Leon as he chops that chocolate and she works on the rest. She's almost clingy, by her standards, but she doesn't care. Not now.]
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There's stuff that doesn't require any thinking--sandwiches, cereal. Find something you really like, get an easy recipe, then make it. Practise often, just like sword fighting.
[A minute later--that's all the time it takes--the chocolate is smelling delightful and he switches off the heat, taking the saucepan out of the steaming water.]
Dump the other ingredients in there. [Motioning to the melted chocolate.]
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Dump the rest in? Well then, in goes the rest, the heat from the melted chocolate causing everything else to smell even more heavenly than just pure chocolate alone, if that's possible. Lightning's just wondering that, a little, as she peers back at the recipe book. Mix until combined, then chill until set. Sounds easy enough, but there is something she's wondering.]
You've done this before, haven't you?
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Only a few times. Chocolate was [--is--] a luxury, so I learned fast not to burn it.
[With a kind of boyish playfulness and a conspiratorial glance in her direction, he dips one finger in the mixture of spices, chocolate and cream, bringing it to his mouth. He invites her to do the same. Hygiene? Eh, who else is going to eat these?]
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Normally, he's the one to start this kind of thing, but today...today there's just something in the air.Something that makes her want to take a chance with him, and throw caution to the wind. Stop waiting around and just...tell him. Tell him that she loves him, too. Because she does. She just needs to tell him.]
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That's nice.
Leon's brain capacity shrinks to include her mouth and her body against his and not much else. She tastes like chocolate and lavender. The bowl rattles a bit as he shifts, pinning her between the counter and his body. His kiss now is more aggressive, tempered only by the fact that they're still in a public place. It wouldn't do to be caught.
He breaks away for a moment, panting lightly. He looks down at her, his gaze fierce.]
We shouldn't...
[He leans in, pressing his forehead against hers.]
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But it has to: they are in public and getting caught wouldn't be good...especially since Spark still has the gear. So she just leans her weight against him in return,wrapping both arms around his shoulders, hands linking behind his neck as she tries to temper the raging fire in her belly. They really shouldn't, not here, but....]
The doors to the rooms upstairs lock, you know. We could continue this there.
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Are you--sure...?
[He runs suddenly-hesitant fingers up and down her forearms, skimming her skin with feather-light touches. Her offer is tempting, of course, but there's a part of him, that part of his brain full of honor and courtesy, that isn't affected by the melody in the air--and it's telling him not to give in just yet.]
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I'm sure. I wouldn't have said it if I wasn't...but we don't have to if you're not sure yet.
[Yes, the melody is playing a large factor in this, but she's also quite sure it's what she wants. She wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't been; no melody could force her into something this important. Still, if he wants to wait longer, she will also wait. They're in this together.]
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No, I do--it's just that I owe you an apology first. We can talk upstairs.
[His eyes slide to the pot of chocolate, then to the door, then back to her, with sheepishness lightening his gaze.]
But maybe we can clean up first.
[Leaving all their stuff here...besides being stupidly incriminating, it'd be downright rude.]
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That would probably be a good idea.
[It's said with more than a hint of her own sheepishness, before she moves away to start cleaning up, starting with pouring the still hot chocolate into a mold she'd found. Sooner this is done, sooner they can continue the discussion behind closed doors.]
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And then he remembers the present he got her, and his head whips around to the delicate little bag, right there, baby-blue and white and lacy. He moves to retrieve it. Maybe he should save it; now's not the right time. Or is it? Is there a right time for this sort of thing? 'I love you, I'm sorry I'm an ass, now here, take this--'
It strikes him as a distinctly...inappropriate thing to give in exchange for something as loaded with meaning as a woman's maidenhood.
The thought strikes him as old-fashioned. Is it? He wonders how she thinks of this. As quickly as he can, he finishes his task, little bag dangling on one wrist, a bit ridiculous.]
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His movement to snatch up that little bag catches her attention as she finishes up, however, and she glances over, blinking while she tries to make sense of the image she's seeing. It's...more than a bit ridiculous, really. But she manages not to chuckle and just steps over, taking his other hand with both of hers and moving towards the door. There's probably a lot to talk about, so best to just get a move on.
Before Spark can figure out how to turn the gear back on, too.]
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Eventually, they finish, and he's left dumbfounded when her hand finds his, warm and moist from washing, and she leads him away. He couldn't deny her if he wanted to.
(He makes a point of swiping the 'gear from the Pikachu before they go upstairs. No more trust from him.)
Every step is a small agony and a tiny miracle. He keeps glancing at her, demure but attempting casual, half-expecting her to just whip around and tell him it's a joke, it's all a joke. Things this good don't happen in reality, do they?]
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Behind that casually demure act, Lightning is also expecting things to go wrong. After the first two discussions they had about this, she keeps thinking that nothing is going to be this easy between them. Keeps thinking that somehow, something is going to go wrong.
But she manages to stomp on that feeling for the moment, walking into their room and being sure to lock the door behind her. This is it. She can feel her heart starting to pound in her chest and has to take a breath to calm her nerves enough to ask what needs to be asked.]
What did you want to apologize for?
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He follows her up the stairs, acutely aware of the other people in the building--they don't cross anyone they know at least, which is a blessing--and feeling a nervous ball of trepidation form in his gut. His own head is whirling with similar thoughts; that he'll flub this, make a fool of himself, and let her down. He does his best to calm himself, even as she leads him into their room, the shoot shutting and closing behind her. Absently, he moves to put down both their gears--turned off, he makes sure of that--and his bag. Then he turns to her.]
For everything. For being an ass.
[He seldom uses oaths, but sometimes you're not 'immature', or 'dense', or 'temperamental'. Sometimes you're just an ass, and judicious word choice helps convey that he's being serious. He peels off his leather gloves, but his eyes keep going back to her.]
I got upset over something stupid, and I reacted badly. I'm sorry.
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Apology accepted. On one condition. You tell me why you acted like that. What about it made you so upset?
[As always, she just wants to understand his reasoning. It's reminiscent of the previous summer only there's no punching. Yet. There probably won't be any, either. If his luck, and the song, hold.]
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It was childish, but I felt cast aside, like you didn't think I was trustworthy.
[Yeah, it's childish. Sounds like it, but he was never good with words. He'd sit on the bed, but he doesn't even want to look at the bed right now.]
I thought you didn't understand how much you meant to me. And, by that same token, I meant less to you.
[He gives her a sheepish kind of look, as if wondering how she puts up with him. Underneath all the supposed strength, the power, the walls he's built around himself, Leon...has no idea what he's doing, fumbling into this utterly blind. He's not used to having his feelings hurt this way, because he hasn't let it happen, ever.]
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That's not what it meant, Leon. It just meant that...[sigh. words, stop failing her!] I trust you, but what happens if we get separated? What happens if we can't rely on each other for a while?
[She leaves that question there, not willing to think on if that "while" turns into "forever", and instead reaches out to put a hand on his cheek. It's a more gentle gesture than she's used to making, but hopefully it gets her point across.]
You're always going to be important to me. Even if there are some things I have to do that make it seem different.
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--I know you can handle yourself, Lightning. [If anyone would know that, it's him.] I just wish you'd let me take care of you.
[Her hand on his cheek, warm and gently insistent, derails his thoughts and drags his gaze back to hers. Her reassurance is mild and feels aimed at a child, but still sends a blossom of relief in his chest. It's strange how the smallest, simplest words can have such a dramatic effect. He lets his bare hands fall to her waist, pulling her in. He bows his head lightly, nosing her hair, eyes fluttering closed out of relish.]
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That's what this is about? Etro, this man will be the death of her. And yet...there's some small part of her that's touched by just how much he cares, and how much he wants to care for her. Maybe, a little at a time, she can start to let him. Maybe. Mot at this moment, but someday.]
You might have to wait a long time for that. I'm used to taking care of myself, you know.
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You've told me. [Doesn't stop him from hoping. He tilts his head down further, nudging his forehead to hers until she looks up, until he can kiss her. A spike of thrill dances up his spine. He catches her lower lip between his teeth, nurses it lightly before breaking away, his breathing a little faster.]
I meant it. I know it wasn't...well said, but I hope you realize that.
[That he cares about her, often more than he lets on.]
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I know. You never say anything without meaning it in some way.
[She knows he cares about her, just like he knows she cares about him. Even if she's never said it before. But today is a day that makes her feel like taking chances, and as such...]
I love you, too. You do know that, right?
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