juststopped | (no subject)

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krem

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This time, she's going to make sure that they eat dinner. She's got bread in the over, pasta bubbling away - nothing particularly exciting, a similar dish to the one that she'd eaten the first time they ate together. She's dressed comfortably because she's staying at home, in capris and a pretty blouse, barefoot in her kitchen with her hair caught into a braid over one shoulder. She's spent enough time around Krem that she feels entirely comfortable in his company but there's still a flutter of anticipation at knowing that he's on his way.

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"Here I am instead," Krem said with a little smile. There was so much in between his mother's various instances on his marriage and arriving in Darrow, but Krem wasn't sure how much of that was really important. How much of it was worth discussing.

He ate quietly a moment more, sipped his wine, grabbed a second slice of bread and hummed a compliment.

There were words on his tongue. Questions, curiosities. He needed to stop depending on liquid courage for any of it, but he couldn't find himself avoiding the wine, for the moment, as he tried to navigate the order of his words.

She can see the look on his face, the way he seems to be working up to something. She pauses tilting her head.

"What?"

"Tell me a truth about yourself?" He phrased it a question, carefully. He'd told her so much about herself, deliberately placed so much of himself carefully out for her as it was necessary to--and there were other things, more things, as well.

"tell me a truth, and I'll offer you another one of mine."

"A truth." She weighs that up for a moment, deciding how much she wants to tell him, how open she wants to be. "I have a daughter. Flemming. She's...the best thing I've ever done." She smiles. "I don't talk about her often, here."

Krem listened, closed his eyes and tried to imagine someone who was half of Adaline and half of someone else, some young woman somewhere back where she'd come from. He wondered how old she was. He wondered how old Adaline had been when she'd had her.

"I'm sorry she's not here with you," he said softly. "Though, from how I understand it, you might still be with her? It's a small consolation, I suppose." And very little consolation, to people like him.

He did not have so quiet and personal a truth, but he'd promised her one for her own. He held his wine glass. "I'm seeing other people. It's not a lack of faith. I just...I care too much. It's why me and my ex broke up. He thought he would be alright with it, and then he wasn't."

"That's what I've been told and, honestly, she's old enough to look after herself. I just...miss being able to check up on her from time to time. It's selfish, really." She studies his face while he's talking, the way he plays with his wine glass. "Wasn't alright with you seeing other people? Well, don't feel like you owe me anything. I've been seeing other people, too. Though, I'll admit, I have yet to summon up the level of intimacy that I've managed with you."

She doesn't mean just sex. She's sure he'll follow that.

He wasn't surprised that she was seeing other people. She was lovely, winsome and smart and funny, and he--well, he was just him. It was no surprise to him at all that Adaline, like Hild, would not be exclusive to him.

"I certain appreciate it," he said with soft earnestness, smiling at her. He reached across the table and touched her hand gently.

It's the easiest thing in the world, to turn her hand and catch his fingers with hers, threading them together, holding his hand. She squeezes.

"It's lovely," she says. She tilts her head, studying his face for a moment. "What reaction were you expecting?"

"I try to not suppose any sort of reaction," Krem said with a little shrug. That wasn't all it was, of course, but it was the fundamental element of it. He swirled his wine idly in his glass, looking at the way it clung to the inside walls of the glass and humming contemplatively.

"There are two here, and there were none back home. I couldn't dare risk it for so long, and then, when it was safe, they were all like family. I didn't go slowly, like maybe I should have."

His voice was colored with self-reproach, maybe a little regret. He had a lot of that. He had done so many things at such a rush, once he felt that he was safe and he could. Now where was he? Certainly not in a bad place, having dinner with a lovely woman who wanted to share her time with him.

"I can understand that," she says, nodding. "It's not the same, but, for a long time I had...stopped. Removed myself. I didn't date, didn't really talk to anyone, had very few friends. After my husband died." She took a sip of her wine. "I made my daughter I promise before I ended up here. Right before. We were on the phone, and I told her that things were going to be different." She gives him a little smile. "And here we are."

"Here we are," Krem confirmed. He wasn't sure it was really all that much of a consolation, much like knowing or supposing that they still existed back home--most of them, some of them, the ones that could.

That was a whole different story. He wasn't sure it mattered, really.

He topped up his wine, and then Adaline's, and smiled. "The food is all very delicious, since I haven't said so yet."

"Thank you," says Adaline, and she beams at the compliment. She raises her wine glass in a toast. "I have learned some useful things over the years. A few, at least."

"I'm sure more than just some," Krem said, not generous but truthful. He didn't like to see people sell themselves short, even if he was prone to it at times himself. But he knew where his strengths were at, and was more than willing to admit to them when it was necessary; it wasn't bragging when it was honesty, as far as he considered.

Under the table, he hooked his foot casually around the back of one of Adaline's ankles. "Any plans on dessert, beside the beer I brought?"

The casual contact makes Adaline smile, a faint blush rising in her cheeks as she shifts, extending her leg towards him under the table.

"Well, I didn't bake," she says. "But there's fruit? And ice-cream for me."

"You remembered," Krem said with a smile, not surprised but happy. Krem couldn't really blame Noah for forgetting, he supposed; it was a marvel of magic for Noah to be able to experience food again, and Krem would have forgiven him the world to try whatever he wanted to.

"Fruits sounds very nice." Then, a little mischievously but with a picture of an innocent smile on his face, he asked, "I don't suppose you have an chocolate sauce for your ice cream?"

To her credit, Adaline's face doesn't really change. She does raise an eyebrow slightly, though. Her face, she knows, lends itself to cool and appraising. She gives Krem her best look.

"I do."

Krem smiled at her arched eyebrow and subtly tilted lips. He polished off his pasta, topped off their wine glasses with the last of the bottle, and hummed a little.

"The beer's a dark one, I think it would go good with some chocolate and fruit," he said, conversational and speculative. His eyes skated appreciatively over her, and he didn't think he needed to say anything else besides that, so he didn't.

What he's suggesting is clear enough from the way he's looking at her. Adaline feels her cheeks start to heat.

"Are you ready?" She asks. "For dessert?"

"Oh, I suppose," Krem said, sipping his wine contemplatively, the picture of innocence in the wake of his implication that Adaline had so obviously picked up on. He smiled gently at her and leaned back in his chair. "I wouldn't want to rush you, after all. We have the whole night, don't we?"

"We absolutely do," says Adaline. She hadn't liked to assume that he'd be staying the night, but she's gratified to hear that that's his intention. "Do you want me to get things for you or are you going to forage for yourself?"

"Oh, I suppose I can forage," Krem said. He collected his plate from the table with great aplomb, heading into the kitchen to wash up a little bit. Not set about cleaning--even though Adaline had cooked, which dictated that he ought to offer to do the dishes; he would, but not at the moment.

He opened the growler of beer, humming as he looked for the fruit and the chocolate sauce curiously, casting Adaline glances now and then.

Adaline sits at the table watching him, head tilted on one side, her braid skimmed over her shoulder, arms folded across her chest. She raises one eyebrow as he starts to go through her fridge.

"Do you want to eat at the table?"

"That does seem the easiest way to clean up, don't you think?"

He said it nonchalantly, finding strawberries in her fridge and smiling brightly. They were dark red, even for the season, and he was once again smitten with Darrow all over just for out of season fruit.

He bit into one. It was moist and rich, full of sweet juice that burst on his tongue. He purred brightly, smiling, then grabbed a handful of the strawberries out of their container to cut into quarters.

"Oh, definitely."

She picks up her wine glass and takes another swallow, watching him move around her kitchen, enjoying him in her space. "Eating in bed always makes a dreadful mess."

Krem finished cutting the strawberries, casually sucking the juice off his fingers. Even then, they had left his fingers and knuckles a little red from juice. It was a prophecy, probably, but that was just more reason to stay out here where things would be easier to clean up.

He grabbed a couple more whole berries, and returned to the kitchen with the beer and the berries and the chocolate.

"I figured, when you're ready for your ice cream, you could get that. So it wouldn't melt." He offered her one of the whole berries, held delicately between his fingers up to her lips.