Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hugo backed away towards the sink, turning his head to watch bubbles heave their way up and over pots and pans. He sucked in a sharp breath and moved to turn the faucet off before the mess became a soapy one. But before he reached the lever, his hand hovered over it for a moment’s breath. He shot a look over his shoulder.

“I keep secrets for myself, of course. For myself and from myself,” he said. He turned the water down, splashing it over the upturned pans in the sink. He sounded completely sure of himself, as though it were all common practice. Sadly, it was. When had he ever kept a secret for someone else? He wasn’t sure he’d ever been given the chance… or that sort of trust, for that matter. Squeezing the excess suds from his sponge, he groaned.

“That's far too long a wait, Krishna! We can take them out early, can't we?”

Krishna's tone did not pass over Hugo, and the dappled Light turned with a sudden smile as though he'd found out a particularly juicy secret. It was a nice turn from their current conversation, that was for sure.

"Are you sure, Krishna? Because they smell awfully nice." He wandered from his duties yet again and bent to check on the cookies. He could see them just behind the pocked window and the haze of wavering heat. They smelt so much better than whatever he had been throwing into the oven, and the scent was devouring the burnt smell his quasi-cookies had left behind. He hopped back up and spun on the Kirin.

"What's one or two minutes, hm?"

"Oh, pooh, what a terrible thought!" Really, way to tear through the magic of cookies, Krishna.

Hugo gave a sudden laugh, stepping through the space between Krishna and him. He reached up and snagged the Kirin's nose between his forefinger and middle knuckles; a grin was snatched across his features.

"Because, my dear Krishna, you have a very obvious cookie-fetish!"

Hugo shook Krishna's head while he had him in his hold before pulling away, but not before flicking the Kirin's nose affectionately. He didn't have to be told twice how much his friend coveted his personal space. What a drag! No one's space was personal - it was all there for the taking, didn't he know?

"Baking for baking's sake~ I've never seen someone watch the oven so longingly before, Krishna! One minute won't mean our immediate death!" Hugo muttered something along the lines of 'worrywart', hands on his hips.

"Although it'd be the tastiest death ever, wouldn't you agree?"

Wait? Wait? Oh, please, Krishna! Hugo had been waiting the better half of this... this weekend! With a batch of delicious cookies sitting as tantalizing (and edible) as they were on the counter, Hugo was hardly about to wait. Since when had he been known for patience?

"That's why milk was invented, Krishna," he quipped, hurrying to the fridge. He fished out a half-used carton of milk and kicked the door shut, propping the carton on the edge of the counter. There were plenty of clean cups to choose from - because who needs a cup to bake cookies! - and pulled two down.

Hugo didn't even have the patience to pour Krishna a glass. Once he had enough in his to reach, he herded a cookie into his palm ('Hot! Hot! Hot!) and dunked it into the milk.

"Tada. Cookie!" He bit into it.

Aaand promptly burned the ever loving snot out of his mouth. Hurrah for genius!

Tears of surprise spangled his eyes. Hugo chugged his glass of milk until it sputtered from the corners of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. Grace was secondary when it felt like you’d just burned the taste buds right off of your tongue. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, tongue rubbing against the roof of his mouth; oh, it hurt like this dickens! A whine pitched itself low in his throat, but Krishna’s palpable triumph had him glowering at the Kirin. His ears flipped back.

He opened his mouth and waved a hand in front of it, as though fanning it would somehow remedy the rawness tearing across his tongue.

“Thnot funny, Krithna!” he snapped as best he could, trying in vain to salvage his dignity. His brows furrowed and he huffed, “Kith it an' make it bedder elth I'll knock all th'cookieth off th'counter!”

Hugo's only indication of surprise was in the way his head jerked back marginally, as though that alone would put immense amounts of space between the Kirin and himself. The only way he knew how to protect himself was to erect that wall again and it leapt to his defense, eyes hooded, guarded; his brow creased.

"Touchy," he said, working his injured tongue around the word. Hugo adopted that common vagueness he was known for, turning away from Krishna to begin stacking cookies on his palm in silence. They were hot, but his skin was not his mouth.

"You're too jaded," he said flatly (though jaded came out something like jay-dud), balancing the cookies on his hand and picking up his half empty glass of milk. With a tail flick and not a second glance to spare, he made a beeline for the living room.