ardyn izunia belongs in the garbage bin. (
daemonized) wrote2017-01-23 02:25 pm
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ARDYN IZUNIA
Ardyn Izunia. Professor of law. Lord of law. Liege of law. The one grading your papers. Leave a message.
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He again steps closer to her, but this time pulling her suddenly rather close to him, hands at her sides and looking down at her. The very clear look of amusement on his face completely negates what he says next.]
Oh, you laugh, but I don't consider this a laughing matter at all.
[No, it is amusing. Though it does boggle his mind a bit to think that they could've been like they are now years ago.]
You gave me no indication that I should hope for anything more than what we were. So what's a man to do, but stay resigned to his fate? I thought friendship was at least better than not knowing you at all, Grell.
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That I will confess as my fault, for not thinking to test the waters and being overly cautious. And yet I can't bring myself to regret it, for how I got to know you as my friend.
[which he still is, through and through. it's just beyond that now - but she has to admit, friendship first had the advantage of being honest without expectation. they had already been comfortable around each other. that she feels grateful for.]
Are you upset? Do you feel like we've really lost any time?
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[Again, everything about him reads as not upset at all. The smile tugging at his lips should be the first proof of that.]
And don't try to downplay this revelation with talk of friendship. We may not have technically lost time, as I did still know you in some fashion, but not in the way I would've liked.
[Another farce. He would never define it as just friendship, because that implied a dismissiveness that he never applied to their interactions. She was a good friend, is still a good friend, even if there's far more to it now.
(But let him keep up the act, just for a bit longer.)
Ardyn is angled just right to be able to fall backwards onto her bed, and he'll do so, but not without bringing her down with him. When his back is against the mattress, his arms are still around her, he looks up at her face with a tilted grin.]
I'm distraught. What will you do to comfort me?
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I have a few ideas.
[leaning down over him, some of her hair falls forward over her shoulders, framing her face as her expression changes from simply stifling her laughter into something with a little bit of an edge.]
Certainly I can't just leave you like this.
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For now, said conversation lives long enough for him to retort. While her striking red hair frames her face, his own splays out slightly around him, head resting comfortably on the bed.]
Show me, then, these ideas of yours.
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later, they can laugh more at the absurdity of things. for now, there's this - and even if it took years, she's happy for it.]
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And then we timeskip to baking. Because we can.
His hair might be a little more mussed than before, his shirt just a tiniest bit wrinkled, and maybe he's left his scarf in the other room -- but generally speaking, he's put-together again, and stands leaning against the counter of her kitchen as he watches her work on a project of the baking sort. Ardyn follows her movements with his eyes, grinning a little, and curiosity compels him to ask:]
Do you need help?
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Maybe in a minute - I'm thinking about how I want to have this come out.
[ordinarily, she would have simply stayed in bed for a lot longer, to be lazy and happy in the way she feels afterwards. but the thought had occurred to her that since absolutely nothing was going in any sort of logical order, that could continue. so, when she'd felt like sitting up, she had, and announced that she was going to bake because why not. Ardyn was under no obligation to get up with her - that he did anyway, she thinks is sweet.]
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Honestly, he just wants to be near. That's all that matters.]
All right. And what is it that you're making, again?
[If she needs assistance, his hands are hers. Until then, he's content with watching.]
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[which she's also just decided on. strawberry is tricky on a good day, so she retrieves the berries from the fridge and hands them to him, plus a bowl.]
Could you wash them?
[she's proud of herself for putting out butter to soften before he'd even come over. perfect. meanwhile she's measuring out flour to mix with the baking powder and salt - gentle, she always has to be gentler than she thinks she is, because it's too easy to get a face full of flour.]
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Of course. An easy enough task for one such as myself.
[He chuckles to himself as he settles next to the sink, preparing everything to be washed. He rolls up his sleeves, and starts to run the water. Time to wash the berries, which honestly is the easier of the tasks -- as compared to her having to measure out the flour without turning it into a comedy of errors.
He speaks as he works.]
How very domestic, all of this. [It's said with a smile, therefore it's a good kind of domesticity.]
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[sugar and butter goes in another bowl to be mixed on its own, and that doesn't need a delicate touch. that can be beaten well, and it'll take her a minute or two to do this. she knows exactly how to do this - she's done it before - but it's the first time she had an assistant.
it's also not something she'd classify as domestic - but then again, her meter for what's domestic is very narrow.]
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Don't you? What would you call it then?
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[it's more that it's relieving to get to have this calm - to be able to indulge themselves like this in the space between things happening. she may know exactly what goes where and for how long, and it may require precision, but...she's missed this, and in the end that's why she's up instead of lying in bed committing his face to even better memory.]
I haven't made this in a while, so if it comes out terrible, I want the honest review. Don't spare my feelings when it comes to something so important.
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I'll be the harshest critic you can imagine; almost as bad as in the classroom. No worries there.
[But he's sure there's no need for it. It'll turn out fine.
The berries are washed now, ready in their bowl and drained of excess water. Set aside until they're ready to be utilized.]
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Good, because I want them to taste good for you. Otherwise, there was no point in getting up at all.
[not for her, not for whoever's going to get the extra. for him, for no other reason than he's here.]
And we would have had these earlier if someone wasn't so decidedly ready to hasten things along.
[she can't say that when she was the opposite of complaining.]
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Hm. [-is his very eloquent response. The berry is both sweet and tart, and goes down with relative ease.
It doesn’t take him terribly long to recover once he puts his mind to it, though. Smile turning wry, he continues.]
You’re far too good to me, Grell. Do you know that?
[He leans against the counter again, sliding back into a teasing lilt of his words. Drama ekes through, as is habit.] Humoring my impatience when all you hoped to do was just bake. Shuffling back out here in a hurry so that you could return to your original goals, in such haste that you’d not even bother putting your pants back on. What a fiend I must be, for my mind to have been so focused on sex that I was blinded to everything else.
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It's my apartment, I don't need pants to bake. And what haste?
[what was hasty about slowly dragging herself up and not putting on pants because it was more effort and unnecessary even as half of her had been debating leaving it be and staying exactly where she was?]
You're just jealous that in the end I chose this over lingering in your arms.
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[But his smile is cracking at the edges, too, as he tries not to drop the act just yet. While he'd hate for her to get flour everywhere, he doesn't hate it enough to stop his dramatics. Honestly, this is tame as compared to the usual.
It's her apartment, and she doesn't need pants, though... That almost undoes his composure, but he manages to hold on.]
And why do you enjoy the freedom of no-pants while I find myself confined and restricted to proper leg coverage?
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[this is mild, yes, but she's also in a mindset to laugh more than usual, which makes it harder to stay serious.]
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Is that an invitation for me to remove my pants? Right here, in the kitchen?
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[her hands are full. she can't stop him even if she wanted to. this'll be the second time he stripped to prove a point, she thinks.]
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And so, if the invitation is real (for the theatricality certainly is), Ardyn finds it literally impossible to decline at this point. Therefore his pants are therefore unbuttoned and removed rather swiftly, and he's left quite literally standing there in just his shirt and boxers.
He holds up the article of clothing in one hand, as if to say, ta-da.]
Ah, freedom.
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and then she starts laughing again, arms moving to put the bowl down before she's laughing twice as hard as she was earlier, bracing herself on the counter as she just laughs at how ridiculous and cute and amazing it all is, that they were both the sort of people who'd do that to emphasize whatever point they were making. she hasn't laughed this hard in a long while, and when she catches her breath, she has to take off her glasses to wipe at her eyes.]
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He tries to speak, but it's interrupted by laughter making his words particularly difficult to form.]
What... [He tries again.] Why on earth are you laughing? This is... a very serious matter.
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