londoncallingrpg | Be Mine - Valentine's Day 2017

"Seems fair," Faizel agreed, smiling and nodding as he set to work.

That smile made her expression soften down to something rather sweeter and shyer, and she bit her lip and turned her attention back to her task before she did something really stupid, like blush.

"I don't think I ever asked you why you're a vegetarian. My teacher Anatov counts himself as a conscientious objector, which I guess you have to when you take up a title like Defender of Frogs and All Things Natural."

"Well- In part, it's because I just don't enjoy the idea of feasting on other creatures," Faizel admitted, not even needing to look at what he was doing as he flicked his wand an set to work, "Mostly though, it just doesn't agree with me. My mother and her family have always been what people would call vegetarians, but I've always suspected it's a biological thing, on some level. That her kind- My kind, I suppose- Just aren't built to be carnivorous.

Sunny tipped her head, like she'd never really considered that possibility before, moving from one yam to a second. "Huh. There's meatless dishes and ways to substitute things, but it's not really something that crosses anybody's mind in Nigeria. I encounter it more in the diaspora. Like religion. Not that the concepts compare. The idea that people could just be without one is alien at home, but you meet a Naija person here and atheism suddenly seems like a viable option."

Edited 2017-02-25 02:47 (UTC)

"Mmm, I must admit, I never found it terribly common among wizards I knew. My father didn't eat much in general- He was always working on something or other, and only stopped to finally eat when his body demanded it. However I've seen him eat mean when that was on offer, or easiest to consume before returning to his work. At school I knew only two other vegetarians, and both were born in the mortal realm."

"Ah ha," Sunny said like something had just fallen into place.

Though the mystery of how in hell Faizel's parents had actually come around to bringing him into existence only deepened. Quite literally, what the fuck had been the motivation?

"Food is a big deal in my culture. Mama started teaching me as soon as I was considered old enough to hold a knife without hurting myself. We spent a lot of time together that way. Not my brothers. I don't know if they know how to boil water. But me... by the time I was ten, we all knew a call from Mama that she'd be home late meant I was making dinner or no one would eat that night. Anyway, every time we went to see family, the kitchen was where we'd spend a good chunk of time together. Usually but not always the women, in Nigeria. But if we were stateside, Aunt Chinwe always had her boys in there, too, because she was determined that James and Gozie would not grow up to be backward-thinking cavemen like she affectionately accuses my brothers of being."

Edited 2017-02-25 07:38 (UTC)

"That seems unfair, the women doing all the cooking. I don't think my mother ever cooked unless it was some sort of group effort. Usually we all fended for ourselves," Faizel admitted.

"The gender nonsense was--and is--not something I'm wild about," Sunny admitted with a bit of annoyance. Her tone softened when she added, "But, yeah, cooking was a big part of how I bonded with my family. So I... I like doing this."

"It's been a very interesting and enlightening experience so far," Faizel said as the onion bits floated neatly into a nearby bowl, always pragmatic no matter what the situation.

"I'm glad of that," she said. Her eyes flicked to him shyly. "You are... very good to put up with my nonsense." Sunny didn't really mean it that way, but her tendency to use humor when she was unsure in any way was manifesting as self-deprecation. But he was good to do this to make her happy... and she feared that perhaps she'd bullied him into it.

She took the garlic and ginger with her to the stove where she started heating up oil in a large pot. "Would you slice the okra, please?"

Edited 2017-02-26 03:28 (UTC)

The wizard nodded, continuing to cut and chop, disposing of mess as he went.

"My mother left when I was still quite young, and though I'd often spend weeks or months at a time with her, I spent most of my time with my father. As I said, food didn't hold his interest really, but- There was one thing I could always lure him from his study with- Cinnamon rolls from the bakery down the road. I didn't often have money to waste on such things, but sometimes I'd pinch the coins from the change from the weekly shopping I did, and save some of my allowance, and I'd use it to go to the corner and buy a huge box. We'd sit and eat the whole box together- I didn't even like them that much, to be honest. I think I just liked the fact that they seemed to lure my father out of whatever strange world it was he lived in."

Sunny couldn't rightly explain what that did to her heart other than make it twist and flutter at the same time in this weird little way. Pity? Empathy? She did know what trying to get an indifferent father to look at you was like. Relief?

Whatever it was, she had to hug him. Right now.

Almost automatically she turned the stove off again just to be sure the oil wouldn't burn while she wasn't paying attention and crossed back over to him. Her hand on his shoulder was something of a warning as he seemed to do better about her being affectionate when it was at least somewhat expected. Then, carefully, she hugged him from behind, wrapping her arms around his belly and pressing herself against his back.

Faizel didn't really understand why he was being hugged, but he wasn't against it. He still wasn't completely at ease when it came to showing affection, but that didn't mean he didn't like it.

"Are we hugging? Why are we hugging?" he asked, since he'd found that asking was sometimes the right thing to do. "Not that I don't appreciate it, just- I thought we were cooking, and knives and hugs aren't something I usually put together. ...Not objecting though, just- I'll put the knife down, yes? Yes, no, I- Knife down."

"I dunno," Sunny mumbled against his neck. "I just really wanted to hug you. I'm sorry, that's probably weird right now..." But she wasn't letting go. After a beat or two, she kept talking.

"I've been turning over this idea. Metaphor, I guess. That we speak love in very different dialects to the point that sometimes we just talk past each other entirely. And I'm trying to learn yours and help you learn mine, and... I don't know if I'm trying hard enough."

"I'm not really sure if it's strange or not," Faizel assured her. "It's all foreign to me. As for how we interact- I... I'm not very good at expressing my emotions, and you can be somewhat pushy with how you think things should be done, but- I would like to think that the affection we feel for one another is enough to help us through it all. ...That is, I don't think you need to try. Sometimes it's okay to let things play out naturally, don't you think? For you to be as you are, and I to be as I am, and to adjust ourselves as needed to accommodate one another. Less trying, more adapting?"

"Affection's very important," Sunny agreed. "The most important thing. But we are... very different people. With very different personalities, interests, education, expectations, cultural context, upbringing, outlook on life, need for physical contact..." She let out a laugh that was more a sigh than anything. "Who are on top of all that attempting to be more emotionally intimate than either of us have ever been before. Why in the world would that be hard?"

Edited 2017-02-27 02:37 (UTC)

"I didn't mean to imply it was easy, only that trying too hard doesn't make it easier," Faizel assured her, his words simple and soft.

"Mm." Sunny considered that, then nodded and pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck before letting him go, like that was something she did all the time instead of the first time she'd dared to do it. "I think we may be getting at more or less the same idea." More or less, only they were phrasing it differently. She could be, as he'd not incorrectly pointed out, pushy.

"Maybe," he agreed with a small nod, surprised by the kiss, but managing not to tense in surprise.

Didn't flinch. Progress. Sunny wouldn't push it right now, though. She moved back to the stove. "I don't think you've really talked about your father before."

"No?" Faizel asked. "I suppose not. There isn't much to say. He was a scholar, occasionally teaching, but mostly doing research involving new applications for old and obscure spells and potions, among other things."

The only question to ask to that was only one word. "Was?"

"Mmm, he passed when I was seventeen, not long after I stopped studying under Aspid," Faizel replied, not appearing too troubled by that fact. He had no ill feelings towards his father, but he didn't outwardly express any pain either.

He didn't sound upset, but all the same Sunny flinched. "Damn, that's some timing." Because it was, since she knew that Aspid's... well, calling it care made her ill, but she couldn't think of a better word for it--had not been pleasant, and to go from that to a parent loss had to suck.

"It wasn't a pleasant time in my life," Faizel admitted. "My mother came home for a while, but she was restless. She didn't want to be there."

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