Ari ♫ ♪ ♬ (gracenotes) wrote in emillion, |
“How well you know me, Drakey,” Ari said. “I’m always planning something. Generally something wonderful.” True to his word, when they reached the living room, where the basket had been left, he settled on the floor, but she tugged on his shoulders until he finally settled back against her legs with a huff. She shot Aspel an amused look -- all these protests, but she knew he was better off with them here than sitting and wallowing alone, and she wagered he knew it, too. “Would you like to do the honors?”she asked Aspel, gesturing to the overstuffed basket, “or shall we watch in amusement as he unpacks his unexpected bounty?” “Ah, I do believe it was intended for his hands, no?” There was undoubted amusement present in Aspel’s tone as she gave Drake’s hand a squeeze before letting it go, and fetched up the basket which was offered over to the man upon the floor. “Would you be so kind as to do the honors?” The basket was regarded with suspicion, but he took it and opened the top. The first thing he noticed was the blueberry salad, which he took out and placed on the coffee table in front of him. Bread, cheese, cold cuts, and a few other odds and ends followed. At the bottom of the basket was a tiny cactuar doll, which he picked up and held out in front them. “Is there some joke I’m missing?” he asked. This one was better quality than Frederick - and yeah, he’d finally caved and named the thing - with more defined stitching. Still. It was a cactuar. Another one. Maybe he’d get this one a bow. Name it Fiona. A grin, and a glance was shot over to Ari as Drake pulled the plush toy out, and as soon as the question was asked, Aspel attempted to sincerely put on her most naive face possible… And failed with the repressed grin pulling at the corner’s of her mouth. “A joke?” A beat, as Aspel attempted an innocent tone. “Assuredly not.” The grin was beginning to turn into a smirk regardless of herself. “It is but a gift.” Faram, how hard it was to keep a straight face. “Surely your hair mimic is in need of companionship, no?” “Everyone needs friends,” Ari said cheerily. “Even plushies.” “But it’s a plushie.” He glared at Aspel. “And Frederick does not have my hair.” Frederick’s spikes looked more like death, and besides, he had a hat now. And a tie. Maybe Drake did need to get out more. “If he has a name,” Ari insisted, “he could use a friend. And you, darling, could use some fresh air.” Preferably on the roof, once they’d assured he’d eaten something. “You named him?!” Hands came down, clapping together softly without thinking and an odd sort of excitement - a type of glee - slipped into Aspel’s tone at the idea of Drake naming his….. plush… toy. Suddenly, she felt terribly awkward. Clearing her throat, she attempted to school her expression a bit, and repress the oddly joy filled smile that had crept up as one leg crossed over the other. “Give it a bit of time, no?” A beat. “Certainly you shall come to accept your hair based relations through time.” Though, Ari’s hint at air was not missed, and attempting to forget her own random outburst, Aspel simply raised an eyebrow at the other woman. They weren’t pushing things a bit too fast with that, were they? “Yeah,” he said. Aspel’s little outburst was adorable, but it also made him feel self-conscious. Did people generally name toy plushies? “It just seemed weird to keep calling it Cactuar.” It wasn’t like he was Monaco with a cat named Cat. And Frederick was a distinguished name. Maybe Ari was right. Maybe he needed some fresh air. It was starting to get late, and it didn’t seem like they had any plans of leaving. “We can take this up to the roof, watch the fireworks, if you guys want?” |