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Dean Thomas (artistdean) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Dean resisted the sudden urge lean over and kiss the top of Seamus' head and smiled at him instead. "Glad to hear it," he said, pleased that Seamus was sounding far more belligerent than he was pained.

Giving a little wave he apparated straight back into his own flat and immediately headed for the freezer, digging unerringly through his frozen leftovers and other bits and pieces to find a bag of chicken stock he'd made some time ago. Sticking the bag in one of his own pans he pulled out a cake of noodles and added that too. He opened the fridge, pulled open the salad draw and grunted in disappointment. No spring onions. Closing up again he crossed and grabbed some chives from the window ledge instead. He knew Seamus could at least manage a knife and a wooden spoon. He had pans too, but his own doubled as a handy carrying device. He ran his eyes quickly around the room and couldn't spot anything else he wanted to take with him. He apparated back again, arriving in the kitchen this time and setting the pan on the ring but not prodding it on just yet.

"Back. Hopefully you're still awake," he said, crossing to the sofa. "I've got everything. Although maybe I should have brought my milk," he said, looking at his tea ruefully.