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 Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2012 2:15 pm
His confidence level took a bit of a fall when she admitted to having never used this particular recipe before, but Paris did his best not to let his worry show on his face. It wasn’t like it should matter, right? Sometimes he cooked things for the first time and they turned out alright. Maybe not perfect, but what was perfect?
Again, he told himself, it was just tomato soup. How bad could it really be?
He settled himself a little more comfortably in his chair and reminded himself that he was just being paranoid and he seriously needed to learn how to give up control sometimes. Sydney was doing this with the best of intentions, and it was nice to have things done for him from time to time.
He just wasn’t used to it. That was all. Maybe he should work on getting used to it if just this was enough to make it difficult for him to sit still.
“Alright,” he agreed. “Well, just let me know if you need any help or if you need to know where anything else is.”
Then he tried to turned back to their previous topic of conversation, letting his eyes scale up and down her impressive height. Maybe he wouldn’t like to be quite that tall, but an extra couple of inches here and there certainly wouldn’t hurt.
“You’re almost as tall as my boyfriend is,” he observed. “He makes me feel like such a runt sometimes. I don’t have many problems in the muscle department, though, thankfully. Have to have something from being a dancer. Most of it’s in my legs, though. I guess it’s a nice trade off. If I have to be short, at least I’ve got a nice set of legs and a great a**,” he joked.
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2012 4:49 pm
The pot of tomato soup was now sitting on top of a coaster somewhere on the counter. Sydney laughed and waved at Paris—at least in his direction, since she was busy staring at the soup and looking for utensils—before she hollered back, “No worries! I’ve got this all under control.” After opening and closing a number of drawers and pantries, she managed to find some spoons and bowls. Most importantly, she found a ladle to serve the soup with. She scooped a bit into her own bowl and brought it to her lips for a tiny sip. “Hmmm.” Well, her face wasn’t puckering into one of disgust. That was a fortunate sign. On the other hand, she wasn’t thinking that this was the best tomato soup she had ever tasted.
It was normal. Sydney could live with this. She wasn’t going to become a chef after all. The redhead filled both bowls with the soup and carefully shuffled over to Paris to hand him a bowl. “See? It doesn’t taste awful!” She noted smugly.
“Almost?” Disappoint tinged her answer. It was always fun to be taller than most guys, but she supposed six feet could only get her so far in that respect. “Ah, that’s true. Dancers tend to have nice legs,” she agreed with a nod while she found a spare seat. Sydney grinned. “Great a** indeed.” It was almost like she had checked out Paris’ a** on more than one occasion. .___.
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Posted: Tue Jul 24, 2012 11:33 am
Paris took the bowl as it was offered to him with a quiet “Thanks,” examining it carefully to make sure nothing looked wrong about it. It seemed okay. Surreptitiously, he brought it a little closer to give it a sniff, but his nose was rather stuffed up so he didn’t smell much of anything. With no other alternative, he was forced to scoop some onto his spoon and bring it to his mouth to sip.
He didn’t know if being sick meant he was lucky, or if he was actually missing out on something truly delicious, but between his foggy head, stuffed up nose, and sore throat, his taste buds seemed to be taking a hit at well, and the soup tasted like… well, tomato soup mostly. He couldn’t tell if it was the sickness or Sydney’s cooking that gave it a bit of a bland flavor. For now, he’d give his friend the benefit of the doubt and settle on it being because of the fact that he was sick.
His taste buds probably weren’t up to par right now.
Paris smirked to himself over Sydney’s agreement, blowing on each spoonful of soup to cool it off a bit before eating it, and though he had no idea what she was thinking he joked, “So complimentary. It’s okay, everyone looks. I’m used to it. Sometimes it’s a curse and sometimes it’s a blessing. Anyway, everyone’s got something they like about themselves and something they don’t, or even just things other people think are oddities. As tall as you are, you could easily be a model.”
Not that that’s all there was to it, but to Paris there was something to be said for height. He was sure it went both ways, depending on the person.
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Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2012 10:49 pm
Sydney remained oblivious to Paris’ skepticisms over her cooking. She couldn’t blame him, not completely. The redhead didn’t cook often. At one point, she could recall being temporarily obsessed with cooking, but that phase had passed her long ago. Sydney Martin would always be a skateboarder at heart, not a cook. But at least her skills were enough to not send the poor blonde gagging. That was a relief.
She calmly took another scoop of soup. The girl cocked her head curiously as she stared at the red liquid. “I wonder how I can get this to taste better? Maybe I didn’t add the right herbs. Hmmm.” She didn’t linger on the thought for too long before she slurped up some more tomato soup.
The redhead stuck her tongue out at Paris. “Aww. Now I don’t feel as special.” She wiggled in her seat, making herself more comfortable. Her soup sloshed in the bowl and she bent over to lick a bit of soup off of her hand. Then she shot Paris an incredulous. “Me? A model?” She tried to flail her gangly arms again, but the bowl of soup made it rather difficult. “Ha. HAHAHAHAHAHA. Ahhh you so funny, Paris. You so funny.” Smiling and shaking her head, she drank the rest of her soup before heading to the kitchen for another bowl.Sunshine Alouette Would you like a timeskip? Since this has gone on for quite a while already. 8D;;
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2012 12:54 pm
Paris might have offered a suggestion for herbs if his taste buds had been in proper working order, but so far the soup didn’t seem half bad. It sat comfortably in his stomach, in any case, and he thought that was a fair accomplishment. Certainly it agreed with him better than a part of him had feared it would. As he continued to spoon it into his mouth without any adverse effects, Paris began to forget that he’d even been worried about it in the first place.
He smiled cheekily when Sydney stood to retrieve more of the soup for herself. “Yeah, being a model does sort of require a certain grace,” he said, in the sort of teasing voice that made it obvious he thought that was something Sydney unfortunately lacked. “You could probably get away with not doing runway, though. Just stick to magazines and stuff.”
He continued to eat his food rather slowly, taking his time to make sure his finicky stomach didn’t suddenly decide it wanted to be upset and remind him of exactly how sick he was. Having company around definitely seemed to have a positive effect on him—if not on the illness itself than at least on his mood. It got lonely sitting around by himself all the time. He knew he didn’t have anyone else to blame but himself for that, given that he spent much more time around Chris these days than he did with anyone else.
Talking to Sydney brought some of the old good cheer back—not that talking with Chris didn’t do the same, but seeing an old friend after such a long time had something of a different impact. They joked and teased and laughed and reminisced, and Paris remembered what it felt like to be young and innocently immature.
To think that so much had changed in such a short time.
After a while, Paris finished his soup and set the empty bowl aside, curling up with a blanket as his illness and a full stomach encourage a sense of fatigue to settle in.
“Sorry I haven’t been the most entertaining host,” he said.
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Posted: Sat Aug 11, 2012 11:08 pm
“And everyone knows I have tons of grace,” Sydney noted as she spooned up a couple of scoops of soup into her bowl. She was about to grab her bowl, but then she turned around and struck a cliché model pose. “So you think I can get around with doing things like this?” The redhead proceeded to do another round of horrible poses before falling into fits of laughter. Freckled nose crinkling, she turned around to take her bowl and shuffled back to her seat.
The spoon was still in her mouth when Paris apologized. Metal clacked against teeth as she gave the blond a suspicious look. “Aw come on Paris, you’re a sick kid so I wasn’t s’pecting much out of ya.” Despite the utensil in her mouth, she managed a grin before she slurped another scoop of tomato soup.
“Alrighty then!” She slapped the space next to her, but she didn’t expect Paris to crawl out of his seat just to sit next to her. “And since you’ve been feeling down in the dumps, you can tell me all of your woes before I gotta go and do things for my dad.” Light brown eyes stared at the blond as if to say outrageous lying would not get past her, childish as she could sometimes be. “Spill all your problemos to papa Sydney!”
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Posted: Fri Aug 17, 2012 11:09 am
Paris let out a few wheezy sounding chuckles as he watched Sydney’s antics. It felt good to laugh and, even though he wasn’t much in the habit of doing it anymore, it felt good to goof off and not have to take things too seriously for a while. He was barely eighteen years old. He should be enjoying himself like this more often, shouldn’t he?
He sobered a bit a few minutes later, though it wasn’t enough to stop him from keeping a smile on his face. Wrapping a blanket a little more securely around himself, Paris shrugged his shoulders and tried not to let his woes have too much of an effect on the mood.
“It’s not too much,” he said, doing his best not to bring things down. He didn’t want to make light of it, but he didn’t want to let it upset him either. He’d already gotten passed that point. “Dad got sick a while back. Not like this,” he added, motioning to himself and his bout with the flu. “Something more chronic. I’ll spare you the details, but I dropped out of school to help him out at his store. I figured school wasn’t doing me any good anyway, and working’s not so bad, so… been busy doing that, taking care of things at home, that sort of thing. Being able to dance in the meantime helps. It’s a nice distraction.”
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Posted: Sat Aug 18, 2012 6:54 pm
Sydney grinned. It wasn’t the healthiest laugh, but at the moment Paris wasn’t the healthiest person around. Either way, it was still good to hear the chuckles. Making a complete fool of herself wasn’t completely useless.
“Really now?” She idly sipped at the soup. The soup was warm and she stared at it solemnly. “Sick, I see. Huh. Most be real tough for ya and you’re old man.” Thin lips curled into a smile before she brought the bowl up to her mouth for a loud slurp. “I don’t think school suited you that much anyways,” she reasoned. The redhead didn’t think school suited her much either, but for her father’s sake she intended to go through with it anyways.
“Distractions.” The corner of her lips tugged at the word. “I’ve had quite a bit of those myself.” She shrugged, raised the bowl to her lips again, and downed the rest of the tomato soup. “Distractions are nice though.” She wiped her mouth with her arm, creating a tiny line of pale red. “You know I’d love to stay and chat with ya, but my dad is probably going to call my phone and yell into my ear any moment.” She laughed. “Got any last words?”
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2012 4:49 pm
Distractions were, indeed, quite nice. Dancing was his preferred method, of course, but that wasn’t the only thing in his life he currently had on his mind. He kept the rest of it to himself, though. He didn’t like to dwell on it any more than he had to.
Besides, talking about all the monster hunting and crime fighting he did with someone he assumed to be completely normal didn’t exactly sound like the best idea.
Paris laughed at his friend again, shaking his head in mirth. “No, no last words,” he said. “Just… thanks for stopping by. And for the soup. It probably did me some good. I’ve been shut up in here for days now. I hope you don’t end up getting sick, too.”
He stood with the blanket around him to see her to the door if she intended to leave. As he passed the small kitchen area, he looked in to assess the damage, but it wasn’t too much of a mess—nothing that would trouble him to clean. Of course, a nap sounded pretty good right about now, so maybe he’d save the cleaning for a little later. A pot and a couple of bowls weren’t going to hurt anything sitting out for a while.
“You still have my number, right?” he made sure. “Call or text whenever you want. Or just drop by,” he added with another small laugh. “Seriously, my boyfriend won’t mind.”
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Posted: Fri Oct 12, 2012 3:10 pm
She squinted her eyes at Paris, her lips puckered into a suspicious frown. “No last words? Really? Well, I guess you are sick,” consented Sydney before sighing loudly and standing up. She rolled her neck and stretched out her arms. “No problem, mate! And don’t you worry your pretty little head. I haven’t gotten sick in years,” reassured the redhead with a grin.
Slowly, she ambled toward the door. She took her sweet time; slender fingers held onto the door handle as she saluted Paris. “Yeah, no problem! I still have your number.” Sydney smirked. “I hope you’re not joking because I’ll seriously take you up on that offer.” The taller girl laughed and finally stepped outside. “Okay, get well soon!”
[[ Sorry the wrap up took forever kadf;laskfla orz ]]
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