♞ 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 exhaled, and then made a face.
"Your ma asked you if you smoked?" He shook his head. Maybe details didn't run in their family--his mother would have known in an instant if he'd picked up smoking. "I can't see you with a cigarette in your mouth, I won't lie." He chortled then, kneading at the other shoulder this time. "Maybe a bubble pipe."