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 Posted: Mon Mar 19, 2012 4:10 pm
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If Paris knew that there were people talking about him, enough for information about his current condition to have traveled through the grapevine, he would have been very flattered. It probably had something to do with the fact that in his boredom—as lying in bed all day truly was boring—he might have sent a few random texts to people complaining about said boredom and the fact that he’d been sick for what he thought was entirely too long.
He was on the couch downstairs because he honestly couldn’t bear to stay in bed any longer, in sweatpants and a random over-large t-shirt he’d pulled out of Chris’s closet with his blond hair thrown up messily, and he almost groaned when he heard the loud knock on the door because it meant that someone he didn’t know was probably standing outside waiting to sell him something, and Paris didn’t really have the patience for that when his head ached and he had snot dripping from his nose.
Then he heard the voice shouting through the wood and felt somewhat heartened.
If he could have jumped from the couch and dashed to the door, he would have. He stood as quickly as he could and shuffled his way over all the same, ripping the door of Chris’s apartment open to see his old classmate standing out in the hallway.
“Sydney!” he exclaimed, greeting her in relief. He had to tilt his head a bit to look up at her because she was nearly as tall as Chris and Paris was still just a runt himself. “What are you doing here? Wait, hold on, I’ve got a nasty bout of the flu. You might want to be careful.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2012 10:11 pm
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Once she called out, Sydney turned silent and waited. It didn’t take long for the redhead to start squirming in place, shuffling her feet around or swinging her head left and right while she hoped for someone to answer the door soon. Behind the walls, the freckled girl heard movement within the apartment and her heart lifted. Someone was here! Was it Paris? Please let it be Paris. The door whirled open and she donned an eager beam at the sight of the familiar blond. “Paris!” She called out his name again before she stepped forward to scoop him into her arms and press him against her scrawny body. “Hey, I haven’t seen you in a while! How’ve you been doing? See you’re chilling at someone else’s place. What’s up with that? Hm? Hm? Hmmmm?”
She let out one, short laugh at his warning. “Too late for that.” A shrug after Sydney finally set Paris down and strolled inside. “I’m a healthy girl! I went out to the park for that shooting star thing and it was really cold, right. But I wasn’t really wearing much, right? But look at me! Still running strong! Got a couple sneezes here and there, but doing better than I thought I would. Much better, actually.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 30, 2012 2:36 pm
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First Paris squeaked when he was practically scooped off of his feet, and he felt a very, very brief sting of bruised pride that he could not do the same to many, many people in his life, but he got over it very quickly since that was pretty much the way things had always been, and he laughed a wheezy sort of sick half-laugh half-cough instead.
“I started dating someone,” he explained once he was back on his feet, shutting the door but not bothering to lock it. “Well, like, it’s legit this time. I mean, trying out the whole relationship thing and all. He lets me stay at his place all the time. I’ve been crashing here since I got sick. It’s pretty nice. Waaaay better than my house, that’s for sure.”
Just the lower floor of Chris’s apartment was probably as big as his entire house—the size of which he knew wasn’t anything to brag about to begin with, but the point still stood. There was the gleaming kitchen that opened into a small dining area and the large living space with its insanely huge window that practically took up the space of one whole wall and looked out over the city, plus the extra room and bathroom at the back of the apartment and the stairs leading up to the loft bedroom and master bath.
All and all, Paris was chilling in some pretty nice digs these days.
“Well, damn, you’re pretty lucky then. I went out that night and I feel like I’ve been sick ever since,” he observed, pausing to grab a tissue from one of the many boxes he had lying around to wipe at his nose. “Did you want anything to eat or drink? There’s water and juice and soda, or I could make coffee or tea or hot chocolate. Food, too, of course, though I’ve been living off of soup for the last little while.”
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Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2012 7:19 pm
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Sydney picked up the wheeze in his laughter and frowned, patting him on the shoulder with one of her gloved hands. “You alright?” Obviously not. Paris was sick. Maybe she shouldn’t have picked up and tightly hugged a sick person. Hmmm. Too late for that.
Her eyes widened and she threw her head back. For reasons not even Sydney’s player knew, her face looked a lot like this. The concept of dating was almost foreign to her, almost. Sydney had tried it a couple times. It had led to interesting things—very interesting things, hmm—but in the end she couldn’t bring herself to pursue it any further. To put it simply, dating was not for Sydney Martin. “Legit? You don’t say.” ʘ‿ʘ It was difficult to discern whether or not Sydney actually believed Paris’ words. This hadn’t been the first relationship Paris had told her about, but at least it seemed promising. She turned thoughtful as she leaned over and looked behind Paris to examine the rest of the apartment. “Hmm. Yeah. Not bad. Not bad indeed.” Sydney cracked a grin.
She clicked her tongue, shaking her head as she gave Paris a disappointed look. “Tsk, tsk Paris. I am disappoint. How could you go and get sick? I guess some of us just can’t be as awesome as I am.” She dramatically turned her head away, one hand on her forehead while the other was directed toward Paris. A curious eye immediately flickered toward the kitchen at the mentions of food and drinks. “Oh Paris, you know exactly how to get to my heart—with my stomach.” Lips curled into a toothy grin as she waltzed into the kitchen and peeked into the fridge. “No worries! You don’t need to make anything I’ll have sod—“ A loud gasp. “You’ve been living off of soup?! Blasphemy.” If Paris had been healthy it might have been, but Sydney seemed to have forgotten that he was sick.
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Posted: Wed Apr 04, 2012 1:31 pm
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Paris from a year ago might have scoffed at the idea of a serious relationship. Actually, Paris from a year ago definitely would have scoffed at the idea of a serious relationship, but then he’d tried it and found out that he actually sort of liked it—or maybe Chris was just the right person to try these sorts of things with and everyone else just sucked.
Regardless, he was enjoying himself. And he thought he could quite possibly be—dare he say it?—in love. That, however, was not something he’d said out loud to anyone—not to Chris, not to his friends, not to anyone in his life but his journal—and he wasn’t about to start waxing poetic right now. He might have been wrong in thinking that serious relationships weren’t for him, but that didn’t mean he was going to start being all mushy and gooey eyed in front of everyone he talked about it with.
It helped that he was sick and had his mind on how stuffed up his nose was or how much his chest hurt when he coughed instead of thinking of his boyfriend twenty-four hours a day. It also probably helped that Chris wasn’t there at the moment and that he and Sydney had never been the sort of friends to have deep conversations about grossly mushy things. Their primary concern had always seemed to be having fun; everything else came second.
Paris laughed another wheezy laugh, watching Sydney as she opened the fridge. “I’ve been too sick to cook much else, and my boyfriend’s sort of dangerous in the kitchen. He’d probably burn the place down without really trying. Most days I’ve just been lying around in bed. Some days are better than others. You caught me on one of the better days. But I don’t mind throwing something together if you’re hungry. I’d be a horrible host if I just let you starve. I’m trying to adopt better manners now, you see,” he jokingly explained, grinning a cheeky sort of grin.
He’d had manners before, of course, he’d just been wild and free and always looking for fun instead of putting them to good use.
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Posted: Fri May 18, 2012 3:03 pm
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Sydney had tried relationships before. She was the kind of girl to try everything at least once, and in a way she enjoyed it. It was fun to have another person to hang out with, to be affectionate with, to be intimate with like ever before, but in the end it just wasn’t for the redhead. The tomboy was searching for entertainment and something to keep her mind off of school and stress and being a senshi. Her mind was always wandering. Her sights were always changing, setting themselves on someone else in a matter of weeks. It was easier to have a fling than to commit herself to one person, but she didn’t mind.
She nodded her head knowingly. “It’s okay Paris. Sick people shouldn’t have to cook. Sick people need to stay in bed.” Her head suddenly popped up from behind the fridge door and stared at him with wide eyes. Perhaps it was a hint for him to shuffle off to bed or at the very least make himself comfy on a big, soft couch. “Oh really now?” Paris’ boyfriend sounded interesting. Burning the place down? Now this she wanted to see. “You should show him to me sometime, ya? I’m curious and all that.”
The girl made a face at the mention of manners. “Manners? What are these manners that you speak of? Just let me make you some soup or something, okay? I swear I won’t burn down the kitchen like your boyfriend will.” As the redhead picked out some vegetables with a baffled expression on her face, maybe Paris would have doubted her cooking abilities, but she had brought a recipe with her! Sydney knew what to do.
Hopefully.
[[ This is what happens when you think you tagged, but you didn't. orz ]]
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 5:48 pm
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While Paris preferred to do the cooking himself—mostly because he liked it, not because he didn’t trust Sydney to be able to do it—he didn’t have a problem taking a back seat if his friend insisted. He smiled lightly, sort of amused, and took a seat at the counter bar to allow her room to work.
“Fine, if you insist. Use whatever you want. The pots and pans are in the cabinets under here,” he said, patting the counter, “and the forks and knives and stuff are in the drawer next to the sink. Measuring cups are in the upper cabinet next to the stove.”
He made himself comfortable. Being in bed might have been a better idea, but he didn’t very much feel like going up into the loft and leaving her by herself. Not only would it be rude, but he was sort of interested in seeing if she was a better cook than Chris.
Not that it was all that hard to be a better cook than Chris.
“I don’t know when he’ll be home today. He’s got… uh… after school stuff to do,” he explained. It was the best way he knew how to describe patrolling the city for evil without revealing he was a magical superhero who fought monsters after dark. Paris was still pretty hesitant about even so much as hinting to things like that around his friends. “But I’ll make sure you meet him one day soon. He’s a sweetheart. Totally hot, too. Plays baseball for DCU. He’s just amazing. I’d show him off to everyone if I could, but he gets busy…”
Made things boring when he was sick and Chris couldn’t stick around, but at least he had some company now. “What have you been up to? Just the same old, same old?” he made sure to ask.
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Posted: Fri Jun 01, 2012 2:56 pm
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“Yes, I do insist!” She nodded her head, snap-pointing a finger at Paris before turning on the balls of her feet toward the cabinets. “Cabinets and drawers. Gotcha!” Sounded easy enough for the redhead to remember. Her tongue poked out slightly as Sydney wiggled out a folded recipe from one of her back pockets. “Yeah! Here it is!” She unfolded the paper and waltzed over to the oven to preheat it. The girl cocked her head curiously as she skimmed through the directions, but proceeded to go through the list anyways.
“After school stuff, huh? Man, I remember those good times, but now I just bum around at home or some other stuff,” Sydney answered wistfully. She could even feel the bruise on her back from last night’s youma. Ow. “Ya? Nice. Hot sweethearts are always nice and all that. Let’s all go and play catch sometime then, eh?” She rifled through the cabinets and fridge for the ingredients scrawled on the paper. Sydney grinned when she pulled out a tomato, tossed it in the air, and then took a bite out of it raw. Washing before eating? Ha.
Tomato soup. Heck yeah.
“Mostly the same old same old. I’m just wandering all over the city trying out whatever catches my eye, ya know? Just like I always do.” Sydney pulled out a strainer and was about to toss the tomatoes into it when she paused suddenly and turned around. “You’re good with tomatoes, right?” Trust the girl to forget these kinds of details. She went about with her cooking anyways. She would figure something out if the soup didn’t bode well with Paris.
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Posted: Sat Jun 02, 2012 2:50 pm
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As Sydney began to move around the kitchen without any issues, Paris began to feel a bit more confident that her foray into cooking might not end in disaster. The urge to get up and help continued to grow more insistent, but he ignored it and tried his best to sit still.
He supposed he just wasn’t used to other people cooking for him after all these years of doing it himself.
“Tomatoes are fine,” he said, reaching for a box of tissues to wipe up some of the sick mess that felt the need to leak out of his nose. “Chris doesn’t usually keep anything in the apartment that he or I won’t eat, so you’re good for making anything you want. Tomato soup does sound pretty good right about now, though.”
Too bad he wouldn’t be able to smell it. Fragrance was half the fun of food. Taste was the rest, of course.
“Seems like you’re doing good then,” Paris observed, propping his chin onto one of his hands once he was done with the tissue, though he kept the box close by in case he should need it again. “It sounds nice. Taking it easy. I wish I still knew how to do that. I don’t think I’d be able to anymore. Too used to keeping busy. Just sitting around here for a few days is bad enough. Seriously, someone has to teach me how to relax.”
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Posted: Mon Jun 18, 2012 4:00 pm
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No sooner had he begun to feel confident in Sydney’s abilities than he began to wonder how confident she actually was in pulling off the recipe herself. For the moment, he satisfied himself with the thought that tomato soup wasn’t even that hard to make.
To himself he began to wonder if he should have just told her to stick with the canned variety.
“Yeah, I’ve had some stuff going on,” he admitted. He didn’t want to get into the whole story because that sort of depressing talk wasn’t meant for happy get-togethers, so he smiled and focused on the brighter side of thing. “Been working and dancing a lot, doing some gigs with one of the local dance companies and helping my dad run his store. It’s a lot of long days…”
And even longer nights, but he certainly wasn’t going to mention senshidom to someone he assumed operated beneath a veil of blissful ignorance.
“But it’s worth it, I guess,” he said, “and it’s fun, so… not really very many complaints here. I’ll come bug you for pointers, though, if I ever need to stop going crazy for a while.”
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2012 3:10 pm
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