Re: BBQ: Damian, Leena, Misha & Sadie
While, during his (comparatively short, but intense upbringing), Damian was expected to take exceptional care in every matter, including personal hygiene and the upkeep of his limited space, and while he was a neat person when it came to most things, he did not care if the quilts were mussed underfoot. That was, he presumed, a natural effect of sitting, unless Leena, Misha, and Sadie intended upon levitating, but he did not believe this was the case. Had Leena succumbed to her irrational desire to ruin the pristine lay of the blanket upon the grass, Damian would only have tutted at her, but he would not have truly been fussed. Just as he was not truly fussed by Misha's careless release of the bedding from his arms.
Sadie and Leena began to work the fire. Sadie spoke of cornbread, and Damian had no notion of what this truly was. "I will have both," he said solemnly, meaning with honey and without, in whatever order it was presented. It did not, he think, require thorough thought; though he knew it was meaningful to Sadie, this introduction. This was fine. He would make certain to savor the flavors once he had them upon his tongue. In the meantime, he did not intend to ponder the existence of the bread with corn with any more depth than he believed it called for.—Green eyes followed the retrieval of items from Sadie's pack, and he sat as Misha tugged upon him. Leena sat upon the blanket. "I am not vegan," he informed Sadie, who was asking after butter and eggs. So long as they were sourced ethically, so long as it did not harm the animals, Damian would partake.
He pointed at the beverages he had brought, just as Misha began to play. "This is qasab. Sugarcane juice," he said of the green, frothy liquid. Another thick finger pointed out the orange. "Tamrhindi. Tamarind Juice." He would offer more information about each beverage if asked, but Damian did not often offer more than he thought required. Also, Misha was playing his violin, and he desired to shut up and listen. He was beside the boy upon the blanket, his thigh against Misha's, and he did not smile when his cheek was kissed, but his affection was evident in his gaze. Damian sat tailor-style, his hands back on the quilt, and he neither bounced nor danced to the music. But, he did enjoy it. Misha was a skilled musician, and Damian enjoyed watching his fingers work the strings of the instrument held carefully under tapered chin.
When the violin was offered, Damian took it, along with the kiss. He considered what he might offer, then, sitting upright, erecting his spine, he positioned the instrument. He played.