You say necessary, I say stupid... stuff can be two things, Alhaitham.
[ Okay, so it's not exactly the most thought-out or well-worded argument Kaveh has ever made, but he's hungover, and frustrated in more than one way, and where just a few minutes ago he would have said he wasn't hungry, he's forced to question that internal claim by the loss of the toast— because as the acrid taste of burning becomes stronger in the air, he knows there's no way he's going to eat what's still in the pan. He sighs, pulling the pan off the heat and setting about replacing the bread.
On some level, Alhaitham's suggestion— to go out for food— is a wise one. (Plus, how often does the scribe offer to treat him to breakfast?) But on so many others, he can't help but immediately reject the idea: one, the food at the market is liable to be richer than he thinks he can handle right now; two, he's honestly quite enjoying himself in the kitchen this morning, in spite of the burnt toast; three, Alhaitham is enjoying the view.
That last one feels particularly important. ]
Well, enjoy the view as much as you want~ [ And how is it that, despite the deep-rooted irritation at himself, he can still manage a smug little smile, a playful sway of his hips as he shoots the barest of glimpses over his shoulder at the scribe? ] But no touching until we have two slices of perfectly-toasted bread.
[ Somehow, it feels like this is going to be even more torturous than the last few weeks. Which of course is a stupid thought and something he acknowledges— even as he thinks it— as very obviously hyperbolic, but one that has him sulking to himself as he sets the pan back on the heat again, this time with two fresh pieces of bread in its base. ]
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[ Okay, so it's not exactly the most thought-out or well-worded argument Kaveh has ever made, but he's hungover, and frustrated in more than one way, and where just a few minutes ago he would have said he wasn't hungry, he's forced to question that internal claim by the loss of the toast— because as the acrid taste of burning becomes stronger in the air, he knows there's no way he's going to eat what's still in the pan. He sighs, pulling the pan off the heat and setting about replacing the bread.
On some level, Alhaitham's suggestion— to go out for food— is a wise one. (Plus, how often does the scribe offer to treat him to breakfast?) But on so many others, he can't help but immediately reject the idea: one, the food at the market is liable to be richer than he thinks he can handle right now; two, he's honestly quite enjoying himself in the kitchen this morning, in spite of the burnt toast; three, Alhaitham is enjoying the view.
That last one feels particularly important. ]
Well, enjoy the view as much as you want~ [ And how is it that, despite the deep-rooted irritation at himself, he can still manage a smug little smile, a playful sway of his hips as he shoots the barest of glimpses over his shoulder at the scribe? ] But no touching until we have two slices of perfectly-toasted bread.
[ Somehow, it feels like this is going to be even more torturous than the last few weeks. Which of course is a stupid thought and something he acknowledges— even as he thinks it— as very obviously hyperbolic, but one that has him sulking to himself as he sets the pan back on the heat again, this time with two fresh pieces of bread in its base. ]