Re: eddie/steph log: waffles
She held onto the long hug as long as he let her, finding herself needing it more than she cared to admit, and then tried to stay out of the way while Eddie moved around the kitchen. Matilda, still at the blonde's feet, followed her owner's movements around with curious brown eyes and her head bobbing about. Steph tried her best not to linger on the memories of when this was a daily occurrence. Him making breakfast, her brewing coffee, them sitting out on their terrace and watching their beloved city wake up below them. Tried being the operative word. But, she didn't look sad -- maybe there was a blink of wistfulness in her eyes -- but she had gotten beyond the point of wallowing over the breakdown of her marriage. There would always be something there between the two of them, but she had made peace with things. He had moved on (or so she thought), and so had she (or so she thought). And, she was glad that they could be here, and glad that he could hug her without that tension growing in their spines.
"I'm glad things haven't changed too much then," Steph said, half joking, half exhausted. The hallucinations, the legal issues, the fact that Eddie loved gossip. Things, well, they hadn't changed too much, and yet there was still a lot of change. She took the coffee, and she didn't even hesitate to sip it. Light and sweet, just as she liked it, and her mouth twitched upwards as she percolated on the fact that Eddie hadn't even thought twice about making her coffee just right. And, those were the little things they wouldn't forget, after being together so long: how they liked their coffee, which side of the bed they slept on, what shows they watched when insomnia was really bad. How his ears turned pink when he was embarrassed or the warmth in his eyes when he was proud of something.
She took her seat, and she watched his smile go sad, watched his eyes flash with a look that she had seen over the years, and she softened immediately. "Eddie." Her voice was low, concerned, and she reached out to squeeze his fingertips if he let her before taking her hand back in case that was too far. "Oh, god, I'm sorry." And yeah, she knew exactly what Hawaii meant. Numbness, pushing away problems. She wanted to ask more -- why, what happened, why didn't someone help -- but she just expressed that all with a look, blue eyes worried as hell, as an invitation to talk if he wanted to.
Looking at him for a second more, she looked down at her waffles, and began to rip pieces off with just her fork. No knife required. "I'm glad you found someone that could almost go tit for tat when it comes to you and puzzles. Almost," she teased before scrunching up her face. "Everything sounds like an awful fucking lot like home. Glad to know we aren't the only ones with drama. Though," she continued, pointing the forkful of waffles at Eddie, "I'm beginning to wonder if we've just got bad luck and hallucinations following us." Picking up the syrup, she poured a small pool on the side of her plate -- she was a dipper, not a smotherer -- and then took a bite of it. A loud mmm escaped, and she smiled like a pleased kitten. "No, your waffles have gotten better, if anything." She chewed and swallowed and picked off some more. "Did anything bad go down during the hallucinations? Did you get them?"
And then some realization hit her: "Wait, she married a voodoo god? What the fuck?"