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Rose Zeller ([info]_rose_) wrote in [info]finnigans_rpg,
Rose released a deep breath she would have never admitted to be holding, when she heard Rolf declare the flat safe for entry. “Oh, I can handle monster cats with my wand arm tied behind my back,” Rose called back with a grin as she closed the door behind her, shaking her head slightly at Rolf’s fond description of Giblet. Granted, Giblet had all the makings of an adorable animal, complete with droopy, brown eyes and black, silky fur, all details Rose would admit to being cute, in theory, but theory and reality were all too often not reflective of each other. Because in Rose’s case, reality when it came to Giblet, and any creatures in the canine family for that matter, everything about them translated into triggers of her fight or flight instinct, or more often than not her ‘panic and don’t move a muscle until someone’s removed the beast’-instinct.

Her whole face lit up the moment she saw Rolf entering from the kitchen, and moments later she was enveloped in strong arms, inhaling Rolf’s familiar, warm scent – tonight with additional spices – before she leaned into his kiss. “Never need an excuse to look gorgeous, but you, darling, makes it all worth it,” she grinned up at him, and presented him with the bottle of wine she had brought. “You’re looking quite dashing yourself, tonight,” she continued and waved her wand to set her bootlaces to unlace so she could take off her boots.

She followed Rolf back to the kitchen, easily finding two wine glasses before she opened the bottle she had just given Rolf. “It’s been a day,” she said with a shrug as she poured each of them a glass. She looked up at him as she handed him one. “I think I need to find something to do between missions, because there’s only so much drawing I can do during a day, only so much wine I can drink before I’m considered a wino.” With a smile at him, she gently clinked her glass to his and took a sip. “No, I’d much rather hear about your day as I help you with the dinner.” Of course, by helping with dinner she meant supervising the progress, unless she was asked do to something specifically; this was Rolf’s dinner, so he was in charge of the kitchen. Rose? Rose pulled herself up to sit on the kitchen counter, legs crossed as she watched Rolf with an appreciative smile.


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