She actually stops in mid-step to think of an answer. What would she not like in her omelet? What would she object to, what food item? And as she is pondering that question, she starts to grin. His laughter is contagious it seems, and the faeling finds herself joining in. Where Horvath's laugh is low; warm notes rolling over the hillside, her own is a higher tone - bells that echo soft above the mountains.
And now she starts to wonder what it would be like to hear him sing.
"Oui, I can think of perhaps only one thing that I would not like in my omelet, Max" She says finally, starting to move once more. "Fried eggs".
And from there it becomes a choreographed chaos. He is much faster on crutches than she expects, and she finds herself whirling out of his way, spinning and dodging about the kitchen as they move in tandem to both create breakfast and clean up left over dinner dishes. Still, it's not a chaotic mess of flailing arms and skirts, but rather a smooth, spirited dance of sorts.
And then she's sitting down to eat, breathing in deeply and enjoying the aroma of the food Max had made them. "Oh this all smells so wonderful!"
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-02-25 06:33 am (UTC)And now she starts to wonder what it would be like to hear him sing.
"Oui, I can think of perhaps only one thing that I would not like in my omelet, Max" She says finally, starting to move once more. "Fried eggs".
And from there it becomes a choreographed chaos. He is much faster on crutches than she expects, and she finds herself whirling out of his way, spinning and dodging about the kitchen as they move in tandem to both create breakfast and clean up left over dinner dishes. Still, it's not a chaotic mess of flailing arms and skirts, but rather a smooth, spirited dance of sorts.
And then she's sitting down to eat, breathing in deeply and enjoying the aroma of the food Max had made them. "Oh this all smells so wonderful!"