londoncallingrpg | Be Mine - Valentine's Day 2017

"I may have noticed this," Sunny teased, moving toward the kitchen to get a vase, filling it with water so she could stick the flowers in. She buried her face in the blooms momentarily as she did so, enjoying the scent. "But I figure, hey, this way I get to bolster your questionable skills and teach you a thing about my culture at the same time."

Faizel nodded a little, looking around the kitchen unsure of where to place himself.

"You can take off your shoes if you like," Sunny told him. She herself was barefoot, even if she'd made the effort to look nice. Wearing shoes in her own home was just not going to happen.

She placed the flowers on her--for tonight, cleared--table. It had just this morning been covered with her books, some for school and some for research, any research, she could do with regards to Anael. Even Philip was banished for the evening (though God only knew if that would stay that way).

Then she move to the counter, and held up a knife. "I trust chopping is in your questionable skill set?"

Toeing off his shoes carefully by the door, the wizard looked unsure.

"Um, well- Yes, but... I usually just-" He paused, retrieving his wand from a pocket stitched into his sleeve. "You know- Cheat."

Sunny smiled at him. "I am all for cheating during the cleanup. For right now, though, we're doing this by hand."

"Right... Well, just promise me we can cheat if I manage to lop off a finger, hmm?" he said, reluctantly tucking his wand away.

In that event, Sunny would happily cheat, but her response was to go wide-eyed and ask, "You've never cooked by hand before?"

"I have. ...I make things sometimes. ...Toast, and- Things. ...Honestly, why would I bother when I can just-"

He gestured with his hand, and while not as focused as his wand, his magic still easily moved some items off the counter and onto the chopping board.

Sunny visibly faltered for a moment at that. It wasn't that she couldn't--didn't--do the same thing, only it was something she saved for the times she was too tired or too short of time to cook. It was one of many marks of her Lamb upbringing and family. She had to know how to do things without magic, and to her the question was more why do things with magic that don't need magic for the doing?

It should not have bothered her much at all, but she was trying to share something of herself with him, and there was always a kind of vulnerability in that.

She set the knife down on the counter and padded over to him, putting her arms around his neck. "Please?"

For Faizel, it was the opposite- Why waste time and energy on such mundane tasks when there were more important things to be done? Why spend time chopping carrots when you could cut four things at once without looking up from your textbook? Wasting time on such little things would have gotten him scolded at home to be honest, and laughed at in school. It grated a bit against his nature, but he nodded a bit.

"If it's that important- Alright," he said. "Perhaps next time we can do things my way though?"

"Sure," she agreed. "Just..." and here she did falter and lower her eyes. "I must sound a little mad, right? But if the point was doing this the easiest way, I'd've just done it myself."

"No, it's fine it's just... I don't know, I'm used to putting efficacy before all else, that's all," Faizel admitted. "It's fine- I'm sure it will be very enjoyable."

He wasn't actually sure of that, to be honest, but he did think it would make Sunny happy. He felt like he so often said or did the wrong thing. At least he could do this right for her.

Practically being in position already, Sunny kissed him again. And then she solemnly promised--so solemnly that she could only be teasing him--"The chances of you lopping off a finger are next to zero."

Ears slightly pink, Faizel nodded and smiled. "Alright, but if one comes off, you're putting it back on," he teased, kissing her quickly in return.

Sunny looked wounded to the core. "You say that like you think I've never done that before," she said as she pulled her arms away and beckoned for him to join her at the counter. Ginger, garlic, onion, yams, and okra were all in need of a knife.

Two knives. She had two cutting boards waiting. "I went back and forth on what would be the right thing to make. And I figured this was about as gateway of a dish you could do. Groundnut stew is all over West Africa. It's one of those things that's so common that no two families make it exactly the same way. Across several countries, two official languages, probably a thousand tribal ones, and they all know this in some form or other. The only point that everybody agrees on is when someone makes it without heat, we should all cry inside."

Spices were waiting off to the side for later, and she gestured briefly to them to punctuate what she'd said.

Faizel listened and nodded, wondering if he should have brought something more personal than cake.

"So... What should I do first?" he asked, glancing over curiously.

Sunny picked up a garlic bulb and a piece of ginger a couple of inches long. "Which one do you want to peel?"

Both looked like a horrendous task, but Faizel pointed at the ginger. "I can do the ginger," he offered.

Sunny handed it over, then reached into a drawer and pulled out a spoon which she handed to him as well. "You avoid the dreaded knife for another few minutes."

"I'm not dreading it..." Faizel insisted, setting to work and ignoring the itch to whip out his wand and be done with it.

"...You know, I'd have taken you out for dinner if you'd liked. Anywhere in the city, I would have," he said after a moment, glancing over at Sunny. "I know I'm not good at- This. But I do want to try and be."

Sunny in the meantime set about peeling garlic with practiced ease that didn't require her full attention. As such, her hands kept busy even when she felt her confidence take another little knock.

The last thing he wants is to hurt you. He didn't mean it that way.

"Yes, I know," she answered, the lightness of her tone belying the pang she felt at that. "Is this already so heinous?"

What Sunny probably didn't know what that his own confidence had been at rock bottom since her breakdown at the party. He constantly felt like he was walking on eggshells, and hated that he couldn't seem to be the thing she wanted him to be. He wanted to try and be normal- He'd thought dinner and flowers was normal. He couldn't help but worry that she didn't think he'd want to do the normal date thing.

It was, honestly, a bit exhausting. He felt everything he said was wrong somehow. That if he didn't do things the way Sunny thought he should, he was doing it wrong. It was wearing him down, and it had to be wearing her down as well.

"That's not what I meant. Not everything is an attack, Sunny. Not everything is..."

He put the spoon down, and took a deep breath. "It's fine, it's lovely, I honestly wasn't complaining. I just meant to say that if you had wished for a traditional date, I would have been willing, That is all I meant."

Neither had Sunny meant to attack him. She had been aiming for teasing while trying not to be so goddamn sensitive, though perhaps that was not the wisest choice. He wasn't incapable or anything, but didn't banter in the way she did. "But that's not what I wanted," Sunny answered, her eyes down. Less on her task, though, than chastened. "I wanted..."

She shrugged. "When a Nigerian girl likes a guy very, very much," she said, using the cadences of The Talk whether or not he was familiar with the allusion just because she needed the humor, "she cooks for him. Except I thought it'd be nice to do it together."

Faizel nodded a little, picking up the spoon once again. "Cooking isn't really my thing," he confessed. "I do enjoy being with you though, and if this is what you want for Valentine's, then... We shall cook, and I will do my best not to set myself or anything else ablaze."

Sunny shrugged. "Maybe we should cheat after all."

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