The Apartment, New York, Sunday

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was in her element. Not only was her boyfriend home – and not just visiting for the day but on actual break – but she was also cooking for him. That's right, their kitchen was a happy mess of various kinds of ingredients and pots and pans with ––

With, well, something cooking in them. It was honestly hard to tell what it was by the smell. Or the ingredients strewn about the counters. Or the way it looked, even. Maybe... maybe it was some kind of stew?

Whatever it was, Isabelle looked happy to be making it.

[ooc: NFB, and expecting a ton of SP, omg.]

Comments

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle snorted. "No, he wasn't my first guess, either," she said. Shocker. Her leg rubbed against his, winding around it. "I thought it'd be Alec, if I'm honest."

[flickofthewrist]

"Him or my mother was mine," Flick said, stroking his foot up and down the back of her calf. "Guess it's time to start telling other people, huh?"

[seveninchmotto]

"I guess it is," she said, and smiled. "You wanna tell your mom together?"

[flickofthewrist]

Flick nodded. "I think that's a good idea. I have no doubt she'll love it but yeah, let's tell her together. I...will come with you if you want me to when you tell your brother or your mom."

He didn't necessarily know if his company would help but he didn't want to just let her do it on her own without offering.

[seveninchmotto]

"We can start with your mom," Isabelle replied, her foot rubbing against his calf now. "While we wait and see how strong the rumor mill is in my family these days. That'll have an effect on how we do things. We might not even have to tell them at all."

[flickofthewrist]

"I'd also like to tell Joi, if that's okay," Flick said, reaching under the table and bringing her foot up into his lap now. "She's the only other person I'd want to tell."

[seveninchmotto]

That was a nice move. She was perfectly fine extending her leg underneath the table for that.

So she was smiling for two things when she replied. "Of course you can tell her. You can tell whoever you like." A beat. "I just want to hear about her reaction."

Because she had no idea how that would go. Not badly, she assumed, but still. She was curious.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick started rubbing his fingers against her calf, pressing his thumbs into the muscle and smiling at her across the table.

"You can come with me, if you want," Flick said, shrugging. "We could tell her together."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle snickered. "When are you getting me my ring? It feels like I should be showing one off if we're going around presenting our engagement to people."

[flickofthewrist]

"We can go whenever you want," Flick told her, sliding his fingers up and down her leg and smiling. "Tomorrow?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow's perfect." Of course she thought that. Pretty jewelry with a deeper significance? Sold.

She flexed her toes for the hell of it. "Sooner the better."

[flickofthewrist]

Flick wiggled each one of her toes and smirked at her. "Once we get you your ring, would you want to tell Joi with me or no?"

[seveninchmotto]

"If you want me there, I'll be there," she replied.

A little distracted. Look, it wasn't that she was exactly ticklish, but...

[flickofthewrist]

"I always want you with me," he said, reaching around her foot to slowly stroke his fingers against the bottom, feather light.

[seveninchmotto]

"Then I'll always be there," she said, although while being unable to suppress a little snicker and a slight twitch of her foot.

[flickofthewrist]

"Have I found a ticklish spot?" Flick asked, wiggling his fingers against the bottom of her foot again. "Is the great Isabelle Lightwood ticklish right here?"

[seveninchmotto]

"... No."

What a liar. What a lying liar who lied. She tried pulling her foot away from his hands, with a laugh.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick held her foot fast, clamping his fingers down around her ankle and feathering his fingers against the bottom of her foot quicker this time.

[seveninchmotto]

"Jon, no!" Isabelle wailed, giggling. Her hands were holding on to the sides of her chair for leverage in her fight to free her foot. (She was holding back, though. Otherwise her foot would have been free already. But where was the fun in that?) "Nooooo!

[flickofthewrist]

"Jon, yes!" Flick replied, stroking his fingers quickly and lightly against the sole of her foot, back and forth and up and down, trying to keep a hold of her foot even if he knew she was holding back. "You like laughing, what's so wrong with this?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Stooooop!"

So, she didn't have a good argument to present against that. She was laughing. And squirming so much she was at risk of falling right off her chair. Or tipping it over.

[flickofthewrist]

"Isabelle, you're going to fall on your ass," Flick said but that didn't stop him from continuing the tickle attack against the sole of foot. "Come on, it can't be that bad!"

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle couldn't answer. Sorry, she just couldn't. Her stomach was starting to hurt from laughing, and there were tears in her eyes.

Hadn't fallen off, though, so that was a plus!

[flickofthewrist]

Flick tickled the bottom of her foot for a second or two longer before he finally stopped and just pressed his palm against the sole of her foot.

"How you feeling, baby?"

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle inhaled deeply and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, leaning back in her chair. She wiggled her toes.

"Like I just fought a demon. And won."

So, good.