Thalia (amusing_muse) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2021-06-20 15:56:00 |
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It had been a spur-of-the-moment invite. Patrick had seemed down, so Thalia had sent him a picture of the most alarming St Paddy’s Day cake she could find to make him smile, and he’d said, actually, yeah, cake and company would help. Thalia had a kitchen and a free afternoon, and Patrick had too cute a smile to let it go rusty, so she’d said, cake and company? We can absolutely make these things happen. He’d almost immediately turned into an adorable stammering mess at the first winking emoji, so it was already worth it. There was something extra endearing about a person who could unironically stammer over text. By the time the knock at sounded, she’d pulled up a recipe and the kitchen bench was littered with ingredients, cake tins and assorted baking goodies. (It turned out she’d had fifteen little bottles of gel colouring in the pantry. She’d obviously been planning something with them at some stage, but she couldn’t remember what.) She tied off her apron and headed for the door, opening it with a smile. “Patrick, hey! Come on in!” Thalia’s home decor might have been described as eclectic and maximalist, which in plain English meant that she owned a lot of stuff that didn’t match and she kept it all out on display because if you had something, you might as well enjoy it. Her apartment was all vibrant colours and cosy textures and walls crammed with art that ranged from a delicately embroidered pastoral landscape to a vibrant abstract canvas, to a watercolour of a sexy pole-dancing carrot and a Victorian print of an unconvincing cat. If nothing else, it was all very Thalia. |