Fourth Floor Common Room, Friday Evening

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

Fridays at the end of a break week were still Fridays that usually weren't busy at all. So, after getting bored of being bored, Hannibal kicked himself out of his own room and took a trip down the the nearest common room.

He found the quickest movie that looked moderately interesting (or at least had explosions) before going into the kitchen and peering at all the equipment. He wasn't a chef. But he was hungry. He could make passable macaroni and cheese, he decided.

If he didn't burn the mac and cheese and didn't set the common room on fire, he'd consider it a job well done.

[If no one's around to hear a common room open, is it really open? Of course it is!]

Comments

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

"You really think that?" he asked, looking up from his stirring. "Really?"

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"Well, okay, not all," Angela amended, managing to look just a little awkward. "There's you, and about two or three others from what I can tell. Maybe it's just me."

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"What's just you?" he asked, ignoring his food now to lean a hip against the counter and face her.

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Angela shrugged vaguely. "I don't know. Looking in all the wrong places," she said. "My horoscope tells me bars are the way forward," she added. Although, lets face it, this was the Fandom High Times horoscopes, and possibly not to be trusted.

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"Maybe you looked in the right place," he said, reaching for his spoon because he needed to do something, "but you just didn't know it."

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Angela gave a little laugh, looking down at her lap briefly.

"Maybe," she agreed, glancing back up at him. "Seems to be the way these things work out."

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"There's someone out there." God, that sounded cheesy. "Or in here. Um, the s-school, I mean. Island. In here as in the island."

Smooth.

[flashesforinfo.livejournal.com]

"I don't think we can really consider ourselves 'in' this island," Angela remarked with a hint of amusement. "But I follow the sentiment."

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"In, on, it's all the same," he said and forced a laugh. "And, come on, it will. You don't think it will?"

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"Of course I do," Angela told him. "I'm optimistic like that."

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"And FYI not everyone is gay or taken," he said and winked.

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"Next time, I will try not to lump you into that category," Angela told him with a little chuckle.

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"Appreciated," he said and grinned. "Though, I did kiss two of them during the carnival. But, they paid so I had to. And you stayed away which made me sad."

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"You were very, very busy that day," Angela said. It's her excuse and she's sticking with it.

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"I think you just don't want to kiss me," he decided and added his goopy cheese mix to his macaroni.

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"Or, I just decided I didn't feel like lining up and paying for it," Angela suggested. That one was probably far closer to the truth. "There are many options here."

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

He had to give her that one. It made sense. "Well, I wouldn't have made you pay, first of all. Second of all...there really is no second. That was a nice dodge of directly answering that question, though. Brava."

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"It wasn't technically a question," Angela pointed out.

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"...no, it wasn't," he said and stuck his tongue out at her. "If it was a question, would you answer it?"

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Angela stuck hers out right back.

"No, I do not, not want to kiss you." Well, it was a straight answer... with a few confusing double negatives.

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"Wait." Poor Hannibal, easily confused. "What? Wait. You don't? You don't don't do?"

[Zomg me too! Night!]

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"Your own fault for asking a really backwards not-question," Angela told him.

"Are you almost done with that?" she asked, nodding at the mac and cheese goop. Check the distraction fu.

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He finally looked down to see that yeah, that mac and cheese was mixed. "Just gotta heat it up. Microwave's are wonderful inventions."

He stuck it in and waited.

"You thinking I'm gonna share?" He would. Obviously.

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"You did say that you would already," Angela said, doing her best to look adorable and in need of such things.

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

"But you've been oh so mean to me," he teased.