As wonderful as his voice is, Horvath has never had any great inclination toward music, leaving that specialty to his fellow apprentice, Balthazar. More physically inclined, Horvath always preferred sword practice to singing. Her joke is rewarded with another laugh, though, and as they artfully dodge each other around the kitchen, he tweaks a stray lock of her hair, once. For the moment Horvath is feeling better than he has in a while, and his bright and cheerful mood is a rare one to be savored.
Into the omelets (made with fresh eggs and milk!) go mushrooms and peppers and cheese, and there's fried potatoes with paprika and other seasonings. He's eager to take her up on the earlier offer to eat outdoors under the tree, but she'll have to set things up, and help carry their plates once it's all done and dished out. With food and refilled cups of tea, they settle in at the picnic table, and Horvath makes a few tries before finding a safe spot to lean the crutches out of the way.
"Not as good as last night's feast, I'm afraid, but you'll have to suffer through it." He smirks, because he knows the omelets came out perfect. He does wait for her to take the first bite, before he starts on his own, pausing to appreciate the difference in flavor that fresh supplies make. At home his eggs and milk are always store-bought. "So often cooking like this for one seems like too much trouble, and I end up just making soup and sandwiches, but... mm. Fresh ingredients make this worth it, and the company's lovely." That's not intentional flirting, he's just feeling unusually ebullient today.
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Date: 2015-02-25 03:57 pm (UTC)Into the omelets (made with fresh eggs and milk!) go mushrooms and peppers and cheese, and there's fried potatoes with paprika and other seasonings. He's eager to take her up on the earlier offer to eat outdoors under the tree, but she'll have to set things up, and help carry their plates once it's all done and dished out. With food and refilled cups of tea, they settle in at the picnic table, and Horvath makes a few tries before finding a safe spot to lean the crutches out of the way.
"Not as good as last night's feast, I'm afraid, but you'll have to suffer through it." He smirks, because he knows the omelets came out perfect. He does wait for her to take the first bite, before he starts on his own, pausing to appreciate the difference in flavor that fresh supplies make. At home his eggs and milk are always store-bought. "So often cooking like this for one seems like too much trouble, and I end up just making soup and sandwiches, but... mm. Fresh ingredients make this worth it, and the company's lovely." That's not intentional flirting, he's just feeling unusually ebullient today.