ąųdįţǫŗę (mentori) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-01-16 18:31:00 |
|
|||
Flowers were a tricky business. Trickier than he previously understood. When he’d been younger, they seemed so much simpler, but then he’d known people long enough to know their preferences. He barely knew Ezio. He barely knew why he was buying flowers for a man he barely knew. He’d questioned the woman at the shop he’d stopped in about the sort of flowers you might get someone who you’d only recently met. As they walked around the shop, his eyes settled on a flower and it seemed to be something aesthetically pleasing while not being overbearing. When he asked about them, the florist told him that they were commonly called musk roses. He got a cluster of those with some primrose lilac and pink dianthus. He thought it was acceptable...especially with all the rambling about flower meanings she’d gone through. What he’d told Kol hadn’t been a lie. He hadn’t put much consideration into whether or not he liked men. He had not really wanted when it came to women. He hadn’t thought about looking to men. He wondered if that was his father’s influence deep inside of him or just a lack of interest in his own right. Still, he was here, standing outside the building with some flowers in vase. He wasn’t sure if Ezio had one, so he thought it was better to be safe than sorry. Aware of a few eyes on him, he walked inside. He asked someone to give him directions without letting the lingering look at the flowers and himself concern him too much. He didn’t even make up a story about being a delivery person. There wasn’t a point. He’d been the one to choose to do this...even if it had been Kol nearly forcing his hand. In the end, he’d decided. He stopped just short of the door before taking another step and knocking on the partly open door. “I believe you asked for flowers.” And the doctor was in! Doctor, technically, Dottorato di ricerca, his degrees framed and mounted. It was a cozy place in his office, warm lighting with a wash of light blue on the walls, bookshelves overflowing already, boxes stacked on Roman pillars as decor, various prints framed and showcased - the main one was Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Casper David Friedrich, a German romantic artist. This painting was believed to be a self-portrait; Ezio liked that Friedrich as an artist paid more attention to terrifying landscapes, like sharp cliffs, ravines, and seas of ice as opposed to flowers and beaches. There was something about that which appealed to him. He looked up from where he was at his desk, answering the few remaining emails from the day - his smile turned crooked, distinctly amused. “You are a funny man, Elia,” he said, using the Italian variant of Elijah. “But grazie.” Getting up, he took the vase and set it down on one of the Roman pillars, after moving the box he still had to unpack off of it - that would happen, at some point. Flowers were much more important. Then he essentially grabbed the face of his visitor and gave him a cheek kiss - one, two, both sides. Not typical for men, really, unless you were in southern Italy. But look at that face! Ezio liked men, he liked women, he liked everyone. Why discriminate? Italians had a reputation for being great lovers, which he certainly believed was true. The assumption also tended to be that they’d sleep with anyone, but...eh. He had some standards. “Now, we will go. I take the light rail, the train, here to campus on the workday. But if you do not mind letting me be a passenger in your car, I will direct you. And seduce you with my cooking.” There was a slight raise of an eyebrow at the name. He wasn’t sure if it was a mispronunciation or something else. That was about all the reaction he gave it, however. “I’m told my sense of humor is one of the positive things about me. Despite my other annoying qualities which my brother Kol has already informed you about.” He may have said he lacked a sense of humor, but Elijah couldn’t remember everything. “But you’re welcome.” He was completely still when Ezio kissed his cheeks. It wasn’t a completely unusual thing for people to do. He’d traveled enough to know some different greetings. Still, he wasn’t used to them from people he’d only met. Entirely. But he didn’t move away. And then they were going, or at least that was the plan. “I think I can spare the passenger seat for you. But only because you’re making food.” The reason was a lie. He would have still let him ride in the car even if he wasn’t, though. Elijah wasn’t without manners. “And because you managed to do something I haven’t been able to do since Mareena was born: make Kol laugh.” He motioned for Ezio to follow him. “I’ll show you to the car.” He started to make his way back to where he parked. The car was a black 2010 Lincoln MKZ. When they got closer, he unlocked the door before moving to open the door for Ezio to get in. “Kol? Did he say you had humor? He told me you were stoic, stuffy, you never had any fun, and had a stick up your ass,” Ezio replied cheekily - the word ass was clearly not meant for an Italian to say, and it just sounded odd. It was said with flair and pizazz, at least, so there was that. “Is why I am making food - my recipes remove sticks from here,” he said, and definitely gave that ass a Elia would have to get used to the Italian way, with this new friend of his. Though Ezio, again, had some boundaries. Maybe. Into the car he went, buckling up for safety. A Lincoln. What an old man car, it was almost cute. “But I am glad to get your fratello to laugh. Is he on his own, with the newborn?” Elijah rolled his eyes. “He complains, but who would have come to his rescue? I would have.” He had on multiple occasions. “Someone has to make sure they don’t get into too much trouble.” It was important. “Is that what it is? I had not realized food had such abilities. Remind me to be overly cautious of food that cognizant and able to function independently.” Part of Elijah had a feeling Kol would get even more amusement out of the in person interaction, an eyebrow raise and slight shift in gaze being the only reaction to the hand on his ass. The flowers had been appropriate. Bold was certainly Ezio’s color. While he was unaware of it, he was known in his dreams for always wearing a suit, but it was almost the same outside of them. No one had yet talked him into anything else. He probably would have slept in suits if he could, but that would wrinkle them, so it was probably better not to. Having an old man car was only one of the few things that made people tease him for being an old man. “He is.” Elijah’s voice was colored by the concern that he felt and it showed on his face as well. “Well, he has Rebekah and me, so perhaps not entirely on his own. His wife died in childbirth. He hasn’t been the same since.” He’d had to talk him out of switching off his humanity. While he would be more than happy to have his own children, raising his brother’s while he turned his humanity off was not the way he wanted to go about it. “Needless to say, I have gotten quite skilled at changing diapers.” There was a small shrug. “The things one does for family.” “Mi dispiace,” Ezio frowned a bit, brow furrowing, since that was a horrible thing to have happen - now the baby would never know her mother, it was a shame. “Not entirely on his own, and is good he has the family. But to lose the mother of his child,” he shook his head. “That will take some time for the wound to even begin to heal.” It probably never would fully - it would just be something that you got used to. It was like that for him, he found - after his brothers and father were killed. The wound had scabbed over, but it hadn’t healed. Mostly, he could think of them now and remember the happy times. Other instances, he did not think he’d ever see anything but red, the color of his anger. “I change many diapers too - is part of being an uncle. But my nipote e nipote, ah...niece and nephew,” he amended, since he realized sometimes he had to backtrack when speaking. “They are now out of the diapers, at least.” His house wasn’t far away, and he would make sure they stuck to less depressing topics when they were there. But he fished for his keys and showed Elijah inside, once they arrived - it was fair to say that he brought his work home with him, given how obvious it was that he had a love for art and oddities. Deep, rich colors, uniquely patterned walls, striking photographs and an elegant marble fireplace. It might not even be needed in California, but sometimes the nights got chilly - he put it on now regardless, getting a fire going. “Please, make yourself at home - though I do not mind an audience when I cook,” he winked. “Is very sensual.” Elijah couldn’t imagine the way it felt to lose someone like that. He couldn’t imagine the feelings that went along with it, but he would give as much of his time and attention as Kol needed. “I will be there until he says he doesn’t need me to be.” He considered it. “But probably still even after that.” He could never give up on his siblings. It was basically impossible. Perhaps he tried to check their behavior from time to time, but it was only to keep them from getting into serious messes. “Eventually I’ll just know what you’re saying without the translation. At least I can hope.” He wasn’t sure it was true, but it was possible that he might figure it out. “But I guess it’s good that you are no longer in need of changing diapers. It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, however.” He couldn’t remember exactly what the worst thing he’d done was, but he had a feeling it was worse than diapers. When they walked into the house, Elijah took a moment to look around. No one could say his place was boring, but Elijah could appreciate it. His place was unfortunately boring, but then he was more of a historian than an artist, so he was bound to be more boring. All of his walls were off white or eggshell or something. He hadn’t actually looked at the colors carefully. Just had someone paint the walls. He did have some artwork hanging, though. “He took off the light jacket he was wearing, finding a chair to carefully drape it over. “All a part of trying to remove the stick from my ass, I assume?” He really was going to have to find some way to repay Kol for his high praise. Luckily he was Elijah and not Klaus. His repayment would be mostly harmless. Now he wasn’t entirely sure whether to sit in the kitchen or where he was now. One option gave him time to think and consider things, but also be awkwardly by himself. The second was no less awkward, but for a different reason. So he settled on leaning against a wall just inside the kitchen for a moment. Honestly, if Elijah hadn’t stepped toward the kitchen, Ezio probably would have dragged him in anyway. Why would he want to be by himself! Ridicolo! In fact, that’s what he did, drag the fellow in - his grin was charming as he hooked his fingers on the other man’s belt loops, to literally hook him and nudge him inward even further. “We will partly remove that stick, at least - I will do my best,” Ezio promised. “They call it...fettuccine alfredo in the States? But the real version, fettuccine al burro, is much better,” he continued. “Here, pick a bottle of vino,” now beginning to assemble the necessary ingredients, he idly motioned toward the wine rack which was just behind Elijah. “I will tell you if it goes or not. Come il cacio sui maccheroni.” And never fear, he had tons of fresh, homemade pasta, it was what he did last weekend - he just had to add the al burro part and cook that. Also a salad - and distinctly not with the grossness that was Italian dressing. “Though I think you are snooty enough to know your wines, Elia. Now! While I mix, tell me more about your famiglia too.” At least two out of three flowers proven. Of course, the third was also proven, Elijah was just refusing to pay attention to it. “And here I thought asking for flowers was the height of boldness for you.” He laughed a little. “Well, I suppose asking me here was, too.” He wasn’t sure what to think at this point, but he decided to focus on the wine. Wine he understood. “Tell me a little more about the sauce,” he said after a moment. He could just show wine and wait for approval, but it was easier if he knew a little more about what he was eating. Then he could pick something a little more appropriate without as much hit or miss adventures. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not by all this snooty talk. I do happen to understand wine well enough, however.” And talking about his family? Well, that was a lot. “I have six siblings. Two older and four younger. Freya and Finn are the eldest. After me, it’s Niklaus, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik. Our parents are…” He pause, trying to think of the proper way to phrase it. “Well, they aren’t worth discussing.” At least not now. It would be a complicated discussion and he really didn’t feel like dealing with it. “I’m close with all my siblings. We stick together. I tend to be the one they call when they get into shit they need to get out of. Or at least they did when they were younger.” They still did now in a way, but they had other people they could call as well and no one had to call their parents when they got into trouble now. He shrugged. “What do you want to know about them?” “Anything you wish to share. So you look after them, even though you are not the oldest one?” Ezio asked, and that was interesting. “It must be your personality.” Or none of the other siblings were great at caregiving. No wonder Elijah could be considered uptight in the eyes of some. As for the sauce, it was relatively simple - he had all the ingredients on the counter already, all two of them, set for the pot and his watchful eye. “Butter and Parmesan. You mix it just perfect, just right, and is orgasm of flavor and goodness,” the chef explained. Likening food to sex was pretty standard though - it actually made sense. “You see, in the States, the chefs? They add cream, because they are lazy. That makes it tasteless and bland. The al burro is lighter, much tastier. You will never go back, once you have me - I mean my cooking.” Ha, ha, ha. Molto divertente! “I do. I did not do enough for them when I was younger, but I have done better since then.” He didn’t think that Finn or Freya were incapable, but it was just part of who he was. It always had been. Their parents weren’t to be trusted after a while and someone needed to make sure they didn’t get themselves into scrapes they couldn’t get out of. “Mother always did say I was the honorable one.” He shrugged slightly. “I guess it doesn’t make me particularly fun.” Oh well. “Rebekah was working for a family, taking care of his children...until circumstances changed things and she didn’t feel that it was safe to go back.” Also known as the simple (but less than simple) fact that his sister was a vampire. It had been a little strange having to invite her into his home that first time. He wondered how long it would be before he joined them. He would have to figure out how to deal with it when it happened. Feeding would be...strange. “Kol used to be a newscaster on ESPN, but now he owns a bar with his friends Damon and Enzo.” He listened as Ezio explained the sauce before turning his attention back to the wine. He stilled for a moment at the comment, before turning to look at him briefly. “I’ll add particularly confident to your list of qualities.” He turned back to the wine before picking one up and turning back around to show it to Ezio. “Yes, no?” Particularly confident. Ezio would agree with that - though he did not see a point in being shy about things. Especially when it involved handsome men with sticks up their asses. “Si, good choice,” he said about the wine after giving the label a lookover, opening the kitchen utensil drawer and helpfully procuring the corkscrew. “Having a glass to sip on while cooking is how I like to do it. Adds an extra oomph to what I make.” He mixed the butter and parmesan, and the trick was to add enough water to it gradually so it achieved that smooth, creamy consistency. “Perhaps you just need more fun in your life?” he suggested, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows while he stirred. “A little does not hurt. Balance, as it is often said.” Elijah took that to mean that he should open the wine and pour him a glass. So that was what he did, setting it next to him, making a point to keep it somewhere where it wouldn’t fall. Of course once he was closer, he was a little more curious about how the sauce was made. He didn’t really watch people cook normally, but it was different when he didn’t know much about what was being made. Plus, it wasn’t like Ezio had told him he didn’t like having people watch him cook. Quite the opposite. “I think what Kol defines as fun and what I define as fun are two separate things.” He didn’t discredit Kol’s idea of fun. If Kol was having fun, that was what mattered. “I would probably be just as happy to sit as read historical texts as much as anything else. It isn’t like I never leave the house either.” He just felt that he had different priorities and perhaps he focused the majority of his time and effort into taking care of his siblings. “What about you? Besides cooking for people you only just met and teaching art history, what do you do?” He meant pour them both glasses! As long as they both had some of the vino, then life was good. “If that is your idea of fun, then it is fun. As long as it is something for you, and not really....responsibility,” Ezio sloshed his wine in the glass, taking a sip. It was a Chianti, so red and dry and reminded him of cherries. When Chianti was good, it was such a visceral experience. Watching the chef magic his way around food prep - yes, Ezio felt as if his seductive charms were working. Food was always good at that - didn’t they say sex begins in the kitchen? Molto bene. “Me, I read historical texts,” he teased, but it was actually true. He did try to read as much as possible, to improve on his English even more so. “I am also finding my way around - seeing the sights, no? I have not yet been to Disneyland.” Oil, vinegar, a little salt and pepper - this was what Italians put on their salads. And they were often dressed at the table, even at a restaurant patrons dressed their own, but since Ezio had a guest he’d take care of that now. “Perhaps you would join me.” There, perfetto! He tested the dressing and decided it was good enough. It was always important to taste your food as you went. “It is.” It was why he had become a history major in the first place. Though, he didn’t believe everything that was written, which was why he’d gone out of his way to research everything he could. It was also why he was particular about what information was given about the paintings and exhibits at the museum. He disliked information that was colored by opinion and lack factual standing. But he supposed not everyone felt similarly. “It is not always responsibility.” Elijah gave him a sideways look. “Oh, of course.” There was a hint of a smile as he shook his head and focused a little more on the rest of what he was saying. “Disneyland? Somehow I’m not surprised.” Everyone went there. He wasn’t sure if there was anyone that didn’t at some point or another. Another sideways glance. “If you would like to. I can probably show you a few other points of interest. If you’re trying to see the sights. At least the ones that aren’t advertised as often as tourist attractions.” Not that he minded the places where tourists frequented, but he often found that they weren’t as interesting as some of the other places. He’d been to Disneyland in Paris, mostly for the benefit of his niece and nephew (though it was a very whimsical day spent, he could see how adults enjoyed it too), yet in California? Right here in his own backyard? It seemed sad to go alone, so he had not ventured there. But if Elia was offering (or taking Ezio up on his clever suggestion), then why would he say no? “Perfetto - I wish to see other points of interest also,” he said, smiling slyly, while draining the pasta and mixing it with the beautiful sauce. They would almost be ready to go here, and he was always eager for others to try his cooking. It warmed the cockles of his heart. “Non sto più nella pelle. Is a date. Do you date, mio caro?” Elijah was right, he’d probably end up learning snippets of Italian sooner rather than later, if he wanted to even know what Ezio was saying half the time. Elijah had picked up at least one word in this whole situation. Perfetto. Not that he considered it a difficult word to translate. It was almost the same as the English. The rest of what Ezio had just said? He was at a loss. He made an amused noise before saying, “Yes. I do date. Perhaps not recently, but I have in the past.” The trouble with Elijah and dating, however, was that he was far too conscious of his family and their approval or lack of approval had the power to make or break things. It was better not to get into all of that. He moved to grab another wine glass so that he could pour himself some wine. “I’m not as unfortunate as my brother makes me out to be.” “Not as unfortunate,” Ezio quipped. “Famiglia is important, I know this. You will always look for their approval even if sometimes is not always necessary? They must understand that there are times you wish to do what works just for you.” But they did not have to go over that in intricate detail. You could not change how you thought about something overnight. Besides, the fettuccine was meant to be a lighthearted dish, for mostly lighthearted conversation. “Now, come, I wow you with the very first bite of my cooking,” he said as he plated the pasta. There would still be enough for leftovers; the salad was also at the table, a bunch of greens and colorful vegetables with the oil and vinegar dressing. “And later you will take some home for the fratello with the bambina.” Elijah kept the surprise off his face. Was he a mind reader? “Yes. They are...always very vocal about how they feel about things. Niklaus in particular.” And his parents, but he wasn’t going to worry about them. “My parents understand nothing of the sort. My siblings...well, they understand it sometimes. Apparently today they were very understanding.” At least Kol was. Rebekah was a romantic and so if he was happy, she usually was as well, so he didn’t expect she’d have anything to say about it. At least not negatively. He walked over to the table, sitting down. “I guess I can really only see how seductive the food is.” He was curious to see how everything tasted. “I’m sure he is already celebrating his victory in getting food out of this.” And in the knowledge that their father would have a fit if he knew about what was happening, but that was not why he was here. He put some of the salad on his plate as well, to make sure he tried everything. Trying the pasta, Elijah could see how one could be seduced by food. It was one of the best things he’d ever eaten...if not the best. Best not to tell Rebekah that someone had bested her. “All right. I admit that I doubted you a little, but I have been proven wrong.” It was not difficult to tell that Elijah was close with his siblings - he looked after them, as he already admitted, and considering that two out of the thousand (an exaggeration, perhaps) there were had commented on Ezio’s introductory forum post, it was obvious that there was something tight-knit going on there. And Ezio understood - he was rather close with his family too, their approval was important even from across an ocean. “It is good you can admit when you are wrong,” he winked, pleased with the reaction to the pasta and the salad. “I believe I have many more surprises and things for you to learn, Elia.” In due time, of course. |