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]

"Better." She nodded. "Still can't promise you'll be getting very many moments, but I can give you a couple. I suppose."

[flickofthewrist]

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "I appreciate your understanding. I'll be good to go soon."

[seveninchmotto]

"Otherwise I'll get started without you."

She sighed and nuzzled his chest. Admittedly, it was a pretty nice place to rest her head for a while.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick laughed and reached up to start stroking his fingers through her hair. "Mmm, that wouldn't be so bad. But, I'll be in on this one. Just a little time."

[seveninchmotto]

Oh, hand in her hair. Her weakness. Nice move, Flick.

"Just a little."

[flickofthewrist]

Flick smiled and slid his fingers through her hair, sighing quietly. This was good, this was relaxing.

This was what he needed.