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John Haveland (phony_king) wrote in nevermore_logs,

John pressed his hands together in thought a moment, then pointed a finger at her. "I'm going to fix you something to eat. As a thank you. I made you come all the way up here, so I'm going to make it right. No no, I insist," he said, cutting her off before she could say a word, and headed across the floor towards the open kitchen area. "Just leave your coat on the sofa, it'll be fine. I was going to make pasta and there is enough for two. You like pesto?" He gestured that Hope should follow him and sit up at the kitchen island while he worked. Pasta wouldn't take long to cook, and he could do small portions so she didn't get overly full. He didn't want to be too stuffed with carbs with doing physical activity later.

He tied an apron around his waist and turned to lean his hands on the island in front of Hope with a slightly mischievous smile. "What's your poison?" he asked, lifting a wine glass from the rack. "I was drinking malbec, but I have a lovely imported late harvest pinot gris I've been dying to open." Something a little sweeter for the lovely lady.