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 Posted: Mon Feb 04, 2019 9:52 am
While she limped greatly at first, the time and distance taken to reach the innards of Adel's apartment eased her well enough into walking again. She still greatly favored her injured side with planned, careful unevenness. She realized, then, that she should not have so staunchly refused crutches during her examination. Little to do for that now.
She followed the wall, then the bookshelves. They were often a first clue to who a person was, despite her lack of affinity for the written text. Tone, pronunciation, emphasis gave more information on a person and their heritage, she thought, but words were only so far removed from that. Words and, she found, knickknacks. And what a knickknack collection Adel started on these so-full shelves.
While she held onto one of the shelves, her hand warmed by the cast of a nearby lamp, she spotted a few titles she recognized in Arabic. One was by a Pakistani author considered a national treasure. Another, a guide to dialectic differences in Arabic and the different regions to which they corresponded. Another was, both unexpectedly and expectedly, the Koran. The rest were largely unfamiliar to her — ethnographies, perhaps histories, perhaps historicities. And beyond that —
"Are these real?" Ayesha hobbled further down the shelf to a display case, lightly decorated with the day's dust, where a venerable old relic sat upon a velvet pillow. She wasn't sure what it was, at first, but it reminded her of a butterfly. Looked like bone. She'd heard there were bone in the body so delicate that it was near impossible to find them whole from the dead. But to have one sitting on the bookshelf surprised her. The wood sported a screwed-in plaque, however, that gave hr a short description:A replica of a 150,000-year-old sphenoid bone from Homo erectus. Specimen was discovered in east Africa in 1908. Its preservation is testament to advanced burial practices and body preservation.
"Huh…" Her mutter hung where her lips stayed parted. Anthropology got morbidly hands-on, it seemed.
Straightening, Ayesha wiped her hand along the top of that display box. "Your place looks like a dusty old museum. I wonder if there's anything here from this century." She took another cursory look at Adel's carefully curated collections before cutting back into the kitchen. The appliances, at least, looked quite new.
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Posted: Mon Feb 04, 2019 6:53 pm
As Ayesha used the wall for support to wander the apartment honey colored eyes followed her as Adel pulled an apron from the hooks between kitchen and front door. It was draped over his neck, strong hands sliding along the thick fabric to lay it smoothly along his chest before he tied it at his back. It'd been a gift from his mother some years back after she'd realized just how much her son enjoyed cooking. Something to help him preserve his professional wardrobe that didn't require flat out changing every time he felt like walking into the kitchen. It was a plain white, but there was faded text along the tip that read 'I make horrible science puns, but only periodically.' At her question he side stepped until he could see just what she'd paused to look at. "Most of my collection is authentic, but not that one," as the plaque indicated. It'd been a gift from the museum after he'd finished his first year with them. An acknowledgement of a job well done. It was the only thing in his collection that was not original or authentic. Her comparison of his apartment to a museum earned her a soft snot of amusement and prompted the man back to the task at hand. He turned the cabinets, opening a pair of them wide to peruse the contents. "Ayesha, do you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions?" Even if he hadn't been trying to make them dinner it was something he'd been meaning to ask her but had had no real opportunity to do so organically. Hands resting on the counter, he glanced back at her again. Watching the way she moved; graceful, even with the injured ankle. On their first meeting he'd found her beautiful, intelligent, but aloof. He'd had his doubts about this arrangement and if they would be compatible. Now, as he got to know her, was privileged enough to see her more vulnerable side, he could admit to himself that he was content with this match. There was an open fondness to the way he watched her moving around his apartment, warmth in already warm eyes as they tracked each careful movement.
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Posted: Wed Feb 06, 2019 8:32 pm
"Oh," she returned, fumbling for words. She always figured artifacts and fossils were prohibitively expensive, so facsimiles were the preferred display item. Or that private collectors either inherited the old objects as part of their privilege or stole them from sites themselves. She doubted Adel was privy to either; perhaps the artifacts he owned weren't in high demand, or plentiful enough that he could purchase them at no great cost to himself.
Adel's next question took her back to life's practicalities, and Ayesha remembered at once that she was supposed to make tea. With careful balancing, she hobbled back toward the kitchen where Adel had poked out, and skirted him with damaged grace. "I have a shellfish allergy, but no restrictions. Thank you for asking." Into the kitchen she went, and —
it was time to rifle every cupboard for tea and glasses and silverware and kettle. She managed three different cupboards before she quickly gave up and asked for the locations. Afterward, she pulled two tall glasses and set them aside before she put the kettle on. Lipton was her first find, which hadn't surprised her. Its American version tasted quite different, however — much milder, even weak. That simply meant she'd add more tea bags into the pot, and perhaps some milk in with it.
Intuition told her she should make conversation. But not just conversation — not shooting the breeze about the weather or asking about work — but something serious. Something that entailed trust, or at least tried to build it. "You know," she started as she hoisted herself up atop the counter, "there was something good about tonight. Can you guess what it is?" It was an unfair question when taken literally, but that wasn't the purpose of it. Hearing how he answered it, what ways he chose to answer it, granted her a little more insight into Adel. It dispelled him from being so much a stranger.
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Posted: Thu Feb 07, 2019 12:21 pm
Since it was late and the both of them were already quite hungry Adel had opted for dishes that were quick and easy to prepare. That used things he had a tendency to keep prepared and ready to use in times such as these. Rice, minced meat already folded with chopped onions and strong spices. He'd pulled out both as Ayesha had made her careful way back to him, and the bowls sat on the counter beside the stove where he had oiled pans set and warming. He wore an amused smile as she helped herself to his cupboards on her hunt for tea and appropriate accouterments. Not the least bit shy, though he couldn't have said he was surprised by that, and Adel certainly didn't mind. it meant she was comfortable there, around him, or so he hoped. The search continued through two more cupboards before she turned to ask him, and he pointed her in the right direction. All the while Adel had been getting their dinner underway. The minced meet mix was added to the oiled pan and set to low heat, and he was stirring it dutifully as she pulled herself up to sit on the counter close by. It was all very comfortable, very domestic, and the silence that had stretched between them was an easy one before she broke it. The bamboo spatula in Adel's hand stilled at her question, dark eyes lifting from the pan to rest on her face. It was a loaded sort of question, but he supposed that was probably the point. Ayesha didn't ask things lightly, and there was certainly something she was hoping to learn from his answer. Which meant he took his time with it, chewing on it thoughtfully as he set the spatula in the spoon holder beside the stove and placed the lid on the pan. "Well," he started as he wiped his hands on the apron and stepped closer to her. "I know what's been favorable for me, and could make a hopeful assumption, but..." He rested the tips of his fingers on the counter top to either side of her thighs. "I'd hate to be be wrong." The events leading up to her being there and sitting prettily on his counter were terrible, frightening things, and he hated that she'd gotten hurt in that mess, but he couldn't deny that he was happy she was there. That she'd called him to come and retrieve her from the hospital, and hand allowed him to bring her back here where he could take care of her. "Tell me what good has come from this night for you, Ayesha Kamjik." He'd leaned closer, not quiet invading her space, but close. Dark gaze flicking from the honey of her eyes, down to her mouth, and back again.
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Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2019 9:14 am
He was cautious. Which was prudent, she supposed, at this stage of their getting to know each other. Ayesha was a difficult read for most, and Adel wouldn't necessarily know what she deemed good or bad in a crisis like this. That he chose to admit his own cautiousness, that he had his own preferences for outcome, meant he was simply human — but honest enough about his humanity to admit it forthright. Ayesha appreciated that.
And she appreciated that he was respectful of her space, though she supposed a little breech wouldn't hurt. The smell of food rose and saturated the room, smelling more like a home than the almost-office residence originally portrayed, which was a distant reality from the chaos from which she recently came. It was altogether different from the hospital, too, where her space was constantly invaded by medical professionals treating her body like property. From people running blood tests on her, ostensibly for any infection or virus, when they looked for pregnancy. Some reason to push prenatals on her, ultrasound appointments, folic acid supplements, screenings, and more. But there wasn't good to come from dwelling on those facts, those already-happeneds. They were done, they got their tests, and their disappointments. Now she was respected again. Treated like a human.
"I got to rely on someone," she answered at last, "and that someone came through. A lot of people are afraid to do that, I've found. Or are afraid to decline. But I think you're neither." Perhaps their being strangers foremost was an advantage — they had no reason to impress or disappoint each other when they retained the rights to quit this arrangement at any time. It was, she thought, refreshing. Possibly the only way she would consider marriage to begin with.
"I think that's worth a lot." She leaned, careful of her leg's position, and cupped Adel's neck with both hands. Both thumbnails grazed a light path along his grizzled jaw, taking in the texture of whiskers against softer skin. She reached for a peck, just one, a simple thank you, and perhaps a simple invitation, too, to understand each other a little more.beejoux sorry i missed this before!
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Posted: Fri Feb 15, 2019 6:55 pm
Adel awaited her answer with hopeful patience and would not be left wanting by what the lovely dancer had to say. It wasn't quite what he'd been hoping for, nor what he might have expected, but it was honest and genuine and brought a pleased smiled to the tall man's face as he listened to her. She'd taken a chance in calling him, not knowing what the outcome might have been, and he hadn't disappointed her. "I think that's worth a lot."He was inclined to agree, especially as she leaned in closer to slid those elegant hands up to circle along the back of his neck. Her touch was soft, but the cool brush of her thumbs lacked the hesitance he'd half expected from her, and he kicked himself for ever thinking she'd have done anything without the same admirable confidence she displayed in all things. Just a touch but it left his skin tingling, hands itching circle her slender waist as her thumbs stroked the stubble lining his cheeks and the edge of his jaw. She kissed him, a soft peck of full lips, but dark eyes closed just the same, and for as long as she lingered there he'd claim electric feel of those full lips against his own. But as she drew away she'd leave the man smiling,eyes lidded as he looked back at her with their faces still only inches away. "I'm inclined to agree with you."
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Posted: Wed Feb 20, 2019 10:53 pm
"Good. I'm sure you'll get used to agreeing with me." Her hands slipped from their perch around his neck and she conceded a couple gentle pats on his chest. He looked as good up close as she expected, and retained just the right amount of reservedness to keep from pushing too far. There was still much ground to cover between them, however, and one night spent helping her out of a bind wouldn't earn him every privilege just yet. But tonight, this once, having left imminent danger, she found those boons in soliciting his company.
Interrupting their company was a sudden, shrieking whistle, and Ayesha shimmied to the side, dropped off the counter onto her good foot, and levied a hand flat against Adel's back to steady herself in crossing. She snatched the kettle off its burner with a discarded hand towel and poured its contents over a teabag-laden pot. The burbling steam rose in languid gusts that billowed against the bottom of Adel's floating cabinetry. They'd smell the tea soon, she hoped, as yet another way to chase off an exhausting evening.
Ayesha breathed herself a sigh. Standing there, both hands braced on the counter, one over a hot hand towel, both elbows locked, standing as she was in the middle of a well-to-do kitchen, she imagined nothing of the sort only a few hours ago. Nor did she think that her evening would twist so suddenly and demonstrably from screaming, churning masses and burning curtains to the sterile, fluorescent hum of a bustling hospital to a warm abode where she'd be sharing a home-cooked meal. And perhaps she should've expected it, knowing she would go home to her mother's from the hospital, but the difference in housing and company was one not so quickly overlooked.
It seemed, to Ayesha, that life was as much about making good as it was about making do. As much about pursuing change as accepting it. Maybe, just maybe, she could live with that.
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