You did very good. It's perfect. [ K replies with warm approval, privately grateful that Paimon hadn't stabbed the silverware into the table or flung any plates or bowls across the room. As erratic as he's been acting lately, understandably, K just isn't always sure what to expect, and at times the more harrowing memories of teaching at Deerington High are not far from his thoughts.
Even amid this heart-wrenching uncertainty he strives to be the calm in the storm, a steady presence, projecting a composed confidence that's in truth only about skin deep right now, unable to penetrate past his cumulative worries. But he's adept at presenting this particular front in a convincing manner. He's had to be, in order to survive in his home universe.
He switches off the stove burners and goes about serving them both portions of the ham and mushroom fried rice, sesame noodles, spring rolls, the rich miso soup... Since this isn't really the time or place for culinary experimentation, he'd chosen what he knows best: Asian cuisine had dominated the Los Angeles that he's from, and it remains the food that he has the most experience making from scratch (or close enough to it — he's still perfecting his noodle-making, and these were traded for). The remaining food is transferred into appropriate containers, labelled with the date, and put away in the fridge. Whenever Luna wakes, he intends to warm some for her then. Hopefully many hours from now. ]
Tell me what you think. And if you have a particular favourite. Have you had food like this before?
[ He pulls out Paimon's chair for him, waiting for him to be seated first before taking his own. So much of his manner is characterised by these simple acts of courtesy. By choice, now, rather than out of a programmed obligation to serve. ]
no subject
Even amid this heart-wrenching uncertainty he strives to be the calm in the storm, a steady presence, projecting a composed confidence that's in truth only about skin deep right now, unable to penetrate past his cumulative worries. But he's adept at presenting this particular front in a convincing manner. He's had to be, in order to survive in his home universe.
He switches off the stove burners and goes about serving them both portions of the ham and mushroom fried rice, sesame noodles, spring rolls, the rich miso soup... Since this isn't really the time or place for culinary experimentation, he'd chosen what he knows best: Asian cuisine had dominated the Los Angeles that he's from, and it remains the food that he has the most experience making from scratch (or close enough to it — he's still perfecting his noodle-making, and these were traded for). The remaining food is transferred into appropriate containers, labelled with the date, and put away in the fridge. Whenever Luna wakes, he intends to warm some for her then. Hopefully many hours from now. ]
Tell me what you think. And if you have a particular favourite. Have you had food like this before?
[ He pulls out Paimon's chair for him, waiting for him to be seated first before taking his own. So much of his manner is characterised by these simple acts of courtesy. By choice, now, rather than out of a programmed obligation to serve. ]