♞ riku (
limitstorm) wrote in
million_points_of_light2014-01-04 07:01 pm
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reality won't hurt for longer than it should
Who: Riku and Lea
When: January 4th
Where: Casa de Bro
What: Some awkward misunderstandings.
Warnings: Cavities.
There was a reason Riku didn't like making anything with onions.
They made his eyes water like nothing else ever could. No matter what type of onion--white, red, pearl, even shallots--would make him start crying and he would always get frustrated, ending up with a few wads of paper towel next to him as he tried to get through the five onions the soup he was making needed. He coughed into his elbow, putting the knife down and blindly reaching for a new paper towel, turning away from his cutting board and pressing the paper to his eyes beneath his glasses. He knew his eyes were probably red and slightly puffy by now.
At least Sora wasn't here. His best friend would probably laugh at him, and he was only two onions down.
With a sigh, he slid the onions into the pot and took a breather, thankful there were no pups around to distract him. He might cut off a finger at this rate.
When: January 4th
Where: Casa de Bro
What: Some awkward misunderstandings.
Warnings: Cavities.
There was a reason Riku didn't like making anything with onions.
They made his eyes water like nothing else ever could. No matter what type of onion--white, red, pearl, even shallots--would make him start crying and he would always get frustrated, ending up with a few wads of paper towel next to him as he tried to get through the five onions the soup he was making needed. He coughed into his elbow, putting the knife down and blindly reaching for a new paper towel, turning away from his cutting board and pressing the paper to his eyes beneath his glasses. He knew his eyes were probably red and slightly puffy by now.
At least Sora wasn't here. His best friend would probably laugh at him, and he was only two onions down.
With a sigh, he slid the onions into the pot and took a breather, thankful there were no pups around to distract him. He might cut off a finger at this rate.
no subject
He shifted and braced his hands on the counter, hoisting himself up to sit there, and then he shook his head.
"I... I don't either," he admitted, lowering his eyes, searching the lines of the tile floor for an answer. He glanced up then, looking a little sheepish. "I know I'm a little... hair trigger?" he ventured, then blew out a sigh. "So I guess... sorry for that. I know you're trying. Hell, I am too. But I'm used to the way I react to stuff, and so when I see you do something I do, I just assume you're doing it for the same reasons I do." He chuckled lightly. "That's why I tell you you're a bad liar--it takes one to know one."
He exhaled audibly, spine sagging a bit where he sat.
"You don't make eye contact when you're lying either," he said, "but... I guess it's like you said: you... don't make eye contact a..." He paused, then shook his head. "But you usually keep eye contact with me," he said then, frowning. "I've noticed the way you tend to look at people's collars or their hands or mouths when they're talking, but you don't usually do that with me. Unless we're walking somewhere or something."