fandomhighdorms | 5th Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

Entry tags:

5th Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

Ringo was humming and bopping along to some J-pop song that was playing on her phone as she worked in the fifth floor common room's kitchen. No one was going to accuse her of being some sort of brilliant cook, and she wouldn't claim it herself, but she was trying to teach herself a little bit at a time.

She'd found a simple recipe for "Chinese style" fried rice on the internet, and now that's what she was working on. And to her delight, it turned out to be well within her abilities. That cooking class with Mr. Spencer had actually been really useful!

Now that she was almost done, though, it began to dawn on her that she hadn't really thought to check how many people the recipe in question was supposed to feed, and, well, um, now she had way too much food.

Maybe there were containers should could put the extra in somewhere in one of the cabinets? She'd have to take a look around later.

[ooc: Open as common rooms are wont to be!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hyacinthe was three things: a resident of the fifth floor, a teenage boy, and, as a result of the second, almost always hungry. And so when the scent of something cooking hit room 516, he was out of his room to investigate like a shot.

And imagine his delight when he saw not only was someone cooking food, but that someone was Ringo! Lounging in the doorway, he grinned and called, "Good evening, fair Ringo. Please tell me you're feeling as generous with your charms as a man could wish?"

[slowish okay?]

Ringo turned, startled out of a little dance move, but just rolled her eyes when she spotted Hyacinthe. "My charms, is it?" She was definitely a little bit red in the cheeks, but apparently repeated exposure to him was sort of acclimating her to the flirtation.

She planted a hand no her hip and gave him a look. "You want my charms, or my fried rice?" she demanded teasingly. "And be honest."

[ooc: Always! Especially if it means we get to plaaaay!]

"My darling, I was talking about your...fried rice, is it?" Hya teased, giving her a wink and a bright smile. "What else would I be referring to? Unless you had aught else in mind to share with me?"

"Darling?" Yeah, that flush was still there, even as she waved at a chair. "You know, I probably shouldn't give you anything as it'll only encourage you."

She heaved a theatrical sigh. "But then I'd have to eat it all myself, and I'd probably get sick."

"You are quite darling," he informed her, dropping into a chair with boneless grace. "Especially if you intend to feed me."

He sniffed the air and smiled in appreciation. "I've had rice before," he said, referring to the mushy, bland stuff served in the cafeteria. "But never fried. It smells better than normal."

Forgive him, Ringo. He knew not of what he spoke. Blame the cafeteria.

Ringo snorted, assuming that was just his usual flattery. "Even I know that I'm only a so-so cook. But at least it should be edible. I'm good enough for that, at least."

"So-so or not, this is the first time rice has ever smelled appealing." It was flattery, but this time mostly to get to the food. "I do not understand why such a food has become a staple. 'Tis either hard or mush and always flavorless, at least in the cafeteria."

To be fair, that seemed to be most of the cafeteria fare. Their rendition of boeuf bourguignon had resulted in him storming out in disgust.

Ringo spun to stare in horror at Hyacinthe. "You eat food in the cafeteria?" Well, "food", at least.

"Well...yes," Hyacinthe said, looking confused. "'Tis where the food is, is it not?"

Where else was he supposed to eat?

"And you haven't gotten sick or anything?" Because, yeah, that stuff was. Well.

Now Ringo was hurrying to grab a plate to spoon some rice onto because Hyacinthe might be suffering from malnutrition or something.

"Haven't you been to any of the restaurants in town or anything?"

"Why pay for food when the cafeteria is free?" Hyacinthe asked, still not getting it. "'Tis hot and filling and that's more than I had for many years."

Ringo set a plate down in front of him. It was piled high with fried rice, and a spoon was sticking out of said pile.

"Because I don't know if what they serve in the cafeteria counts as food. And you can do a lot better for yourself if you just cook something on your own." It was part of what had motivated her to learn more recipes, after all.

"Buying food to cook still costs funds," Hyacinthe pointed out, before digging into the rice enthusiastically. It certainly smelled better than the mush they served. And looked better, too. "Also, your stoves remain a mystery to me," he added, giving her a rueful smile. "I may have tried cooking already and burned everything beyond repair."

"Well, if it's just familiarity that's stopping you, you should say so." Ringo planted her hands on her hips and gave Hyacinthe a look. "I may not be some great chef, but I can teach you how to use a stove and an oven."

He responded to the look with a merry grin and an attempt to look as charming as possible. "And 'tis so much nicer to have lovely ladies plying me with food as soon as I enter the room?" he teased. "I am quiet enjoying the experience."

And the rice, om nom nom

Ringo snorted. "What? Is this a new experience for you?" She gave him a doubtful, but amused, look.

"How many women do you think I have clamoring to feed me?" Hyacinthe asked, laughing. "I assure you, outside of my mother, there are not many."

"What? They're not all swayed by all the flirting?" Ringo grinned at him as she began setting up a plate for herself.

Hyacinthe shook his head, mouth full of more rice. Only after he swallowed did he explain, "I have found that my paramours come in two varieties," he told her. "The first are those who travel to Night's Doorstep, looking for a bit of illicit thrill, be that drinking in a common tavern or flirting with the roguishly handsome Prince of Travelers. The others enjoy flirting with me and yet refuse to let me get away with anything."

Or, to put it another way, the rich lads and lasses who would be appalled to think of him in any other context than a bit of sport, and those who were too smart to take him all that seriously. Neither were inclined to feed him overmuch.

"Phèdre and I take turns buying one another treats when she visits, though I'd not trust her within ten feet of a proper stove, never mind the contraptions you use."

"Oh." Ringo considered that, and then smirked, nodding at his plate.

"So? How is it?" She had a pretty good guess as to his opinion.

"And which one of those categories do I fall into?"

In answer, Hyacinthe held out his empty plate. "Might need to get more to be able to answer properly," he said, batting his eyes at her. "And considering you've hardly swooned just because I smiled at you, I'd put you firmly in the second category. Though perhaps I need to do more than simply smile 'ere you'll swoon for me."

"Like what?" Ringo laughed, taking his plate and spooning some more rice onto it (there was still a ton left, after all, so if Hyacinthe was going to help eat it, she wasn't going to object).

Of course, now that she'd asked the question, Ringo was suddenly reminded of the beach party and remembered "what" sorts of ways he might escalate his flirting.

"Tis very simple," Hyacinthe said, his voice in her ear. He'd anticipated that question and had quietly padded over to answer it, juuust at the edge of her personal space. "I'd go for a kiss."

Ringo usually had pretty good situational awareness, but she hadn't even noticed him move. So she started, a little squeak of surprise slipping out as she jumped a couple of inches off the ground and spun toward him.

But after a second to collect her wits, she found herself smiling almost reluctantly. "You." She pointed accusingly at him with the spoon she'd been using to get more rice. "Are a sneaky and dangerous person."

But she didn't step away. That'd be kind of like letting him win. Or something like that.

He was very good at moving quietly. Came from occasionally being a thief when it was called for. "I," he said, giving her a swift bow, "am delighted to be considered so." He leaned against the counter, all loose, cat-like grace. "Though I assure you, much more the former than the latter."

"Uh huh." Ringo snorted, leaning back to appreciate the way he stood. Because she totally appreciated casual displays of agility and balance, and you could really tell a lot about how someone moved by how they could stand.

"And I'd say, to me, you're more dangerous." He had a way of throwing her off balance, but a strange one. Ringo wasn't pushed away, but was sort of simultaneously out of her comfort zone and intrigued.

His stance said that he had a lot of the quiet strength that came from years of hard work and a natural dexterity honed by years of leaping, dodging, and occasionally running out of the way of people and items much bigger than he was.

"To you, lovely Ringo? I'd say 'Perish the thought,' but you have me intrigued," he said, drifting slightly nearer to her. "How could I be dangerous?" His grin was inviting. "Unless you're afraid of a few kisses."

You weren't scared of kissing, were you, Ringo?

"Pffft, no." That answer came, perhaps, a little too quickly. Since, you know, it was Ringo.

It wasn't so much that she was scared of kissing. She just didn't have, you know, much practice. Which always made her think she'd probably just embarrass herself. So, you know, not scared.

Just. Um. She probably needed Kathy's vocabulary to come up with a good synonym.

How did apprehensive strike her? Perhaps concerned?

What she was failing to take into consideration was that kissing, like any skill, was easily improved with practice. All she needed to do was find someone willing to practice with her.

Gee, whoever might she find willing to do that?

"You are not?" he asked--almost purred, really--and leaned a bit closer, resting his chin on his fist. "I am glad to hear that. 'Tis no guarantee, of course, but it bodes better for me than if you were."

Oh, apprehensive was good! That one!

And since it was Ringo, it wasn't just a case of finding someone willing, it was also finding someone she'd be comfortable admitting to the fact that she needed the practice.

Ringo leaned back, but only a tiny bit, as that apprehension (good word!) sort of bubbled up a bit. "And here I thought you appreciated me for my cooking."

It was like Kathy was still there, whispering vocab words into her ear.

"See, there's my secret, chavi," he said, staying still. Ringo was like a frightened bird, though he doubted she'd appreciate the comparison. If he pushed too far or too fast, she might flee. But give her time and her own natural curiosity would bring her to him. "I can appreciate many things about you at the same time. Your cooking, your willingness to kiss, the way you look in a low collar...you are multifaceted and I admire that."

Like a nerdy ghost!

"Oh yeah?" Ringo grinned, leaning forward just a tiny bit. Sort of like a bird hopping toward something interesting.

"Tell me more about these facets you admire."

What? Ringo liked to hear nice things about herself as much as the next person!

Hyacinthe pretended to think it over for a moment. "For a kiss," he bargained.

Ringo's eyebrows rose, and she chewed on her lip, mulling that over. She'd sort of said too much to back down now.

"A little one," she decided. That'd be okay.

She grinned slightly and shook a finger at Hyacinthe. "So no hanky-panky." Yeah. Someone had definitely been watching too much old TV.

"No hanky-panky," Hyacinthe agreed, reaching for her hand to tug her closer. His eyes never left her face. "And just what is that, pray?"

She let herself drift closer, but without losing her balance. Still a bit tense and ready to move if she felt the need.

"I'm pretty sure that hanky-panky is your area of expertise, not mine," she pointed out with a grin that was only let through a tiny hint of her mild apprehension over the whole situation.

"There are many things that I would consider my area of expertise," Hyacinthe said. "However, that does not tell me where you wish to draw the line."

He slid his hand up to her face, intending to cup her cheek and run his thumb along the bone. "Is this acceptable to you?" he asked.

As if Hya didn't know how to make asking for consent sexy.

The tension was still there. The earlier metaphor of a little bird wasn't a bad one, either. But while Ringo stiffened slightly at the touch, she didn't pull away. "This is, um, okay."

She was blinking rapidly now, her brain trying to adjust to having someone in her personal space like this.

He was just trying to find her boundaries! Really! Aaaaaaand maybe intrigue her a little bit as well. So he kept caressing her cheek slowly until he felt the tension drain out of her. Once that happened, he would move on to the next touch, but not until.

"I appreciate your bravery," he said softly.

Well, Ringo was definitely intrigued. And, really, the compliment was pretty well timed.

She grinned slightly, quirking an eyebrow. "Bravery? I should be worried about this?" She punctuated the question by leaning her cheek very slightly into his hand, much of her tension sliding away into amusement.

Of course it was! Hyacinthe had little trouble reading her body language. He knew apprehension when he saw it and still she did not back down.

"If you are worried, then I am clearly not doing this right," Hyacinthe said with a chuckle. Now that she had relaxed into his hand, he shifted his thumb. Instead of caressing her cheekbone, it started brushing over her lower lip. "I mean no more than that. I admire your bravery."

[Fleeing to the woods for the weekend!]

Edited 2016-09-16 20:53 (UTC)

Ringo started to answer, but then his thumb was sliding across her lip. This time when she stiffened, it was more in surprise than apprehension. Somehow she'd forgotten, or maybe never known, just how sensitive lips could be because it felt like she could feel every little bit of texture on the pad of Hyacinthe's thumb.

She sort of wanted to lick her lips, but she couldn't right that moment.

[ooc: Don't get lost! Or eaten by any bears!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

5th Floor Common Room, Monday Evening

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject