That's Raw, Dear. (Helle/Cyrus)

“That… Let’s get you down.”

She seemed pressed to put the other woman down, if only to save herself from any further harassment. Though a harsh way to perceive the situation, Helle is unhappy with her lack of foothold. Every action felt far too sensual and spoiled her mind with unsavory thoughts of her superior. These thoughts aren’t unwelcomed, per say, but they distract her from her original goal of simply having lunch. As nice as it is to be praised, her poor heart just can’t handle this kind of behavior.

So, she does put Azmi down, sighing since she wouldn’t have to actually feed the woman. She is sure that this aspect of her lover would undoubtedly take being fed a tad too far. Helle really needs to calm down. Every second, she’s just thinking something’s going to happen, and it’s making it impossible for her red cheeks to return to their natural milky color. Not even a strong sigh calmed her nerves. Is this similar to how Azmi felt whenever she dared to tease him? At least they can now focus on partaking in her cooked meal.

“...”

...Where is her… Her emerald eyes cracked before their color faded. Her thoughts race back, just far enough to remember that she had not brought their meal along. Turning away from her partner, she seemed to double over slightly as if someone had punched her in the gut. This is all Azmi’s fault! If the blasted woman wasn’t so damn annoyingly mesmerizing with her dainty little flirts and deep desert person voice and accent. Helle’s hands came together, her digits pressing against one another as she froze and began to formulate her next course of action. How is she supposed to relate the fact that they now have no food to actually partake in?!

Eep!

“I am fine! Do not fret, Azmi.”

She needs to calm down. Her heart is not troubled, but if she allows herself to stress any further, it very well could become a problem. Forcing her anxiety down, she slowly turned her head, her cheeks enlarged with air. Her eyes widened with shame, her gaze quickly shifted to her hands, her fingers toying with one another. Guilt was written on her face as she slowly came to terms with her error. It is better to come clean, for it’s but a simple mistake that any person could make.

“...I may have forgotten our lunch…” She muttered, exhaling the breath she kept in her cheeks. She kept her gaze focused away, finding the floor of her living room entertaining. Their lunch is somewhat ruined, and it’s her fault.

“Eh…”

Now she’s being hugged, which, somehow, made her more nervous than the kiss she had first received before. Her empty stomach contained butterflies as this simple interaction broke her nerves. Bowing her head, she tried to hide her face underneath her blonde hair, but she could only curse her magnificent skill at braiding. There are many things complicating the situation here, and it’s only her who believes such. From one screw up to another, she’s done nothing but allow herself to be distracted and forget the very reason she dragged Azmi away from their work for.

However, when one stumbles, another must take the lead. Azmi’s suggestion that they cook together shook Helle from her stupor, filling the woman’s eyes with some hope. Why, that’s perfect, is it not? This means that she may cook Azmi a meal far superior than what was originally brought. Maybe this day could be saved. In her excitement, she quickly rose, forgetting that Azmi held her as she began her way towards the kitchen.

“Why, you prove correct, Azmi. There is yet a way to salvage this day. Allow me to prepare a meal just for the occasion.”

“Together?”

She found herself scavenging within her own fridge, her mind’s eye opened to the many combinations she could create for her Azmi. Would he enjoy something simplistic? Experimental? Complicated, yet, awarding? Her thoughts are a tornado of possibilities, and it’s impossible for her to fully comprehend what it is she should commit towards. However, the thought of combining their efforts into a single dish that they both may partake in proved to take the forefront of her pondering ramblings. Rising, she took to moving quickly, pulling the other into the kitchen, her emerald eyes alit with pure childish excitement.

“Yes. Yes. Let us. What would you like, dear? I am sure it would be trivial if we combined our efforts.”

His/Her youth? Helle’s eyes focused, a sudden interest in her eyes. The thought of creating something related to Azmi’s roots… Why, she must! Though, how could she go about such without sounding conspicuous? It would make for a wonderful surprise, but that wouldn’t work if she took out a note and pen and asked about it. Such ideas must be planned out, and, right now, her attention should be focused on more than what she’ll make for Azmi in the future. That left another question for her then. What to make in their current situation? Light? Spring? Something easy and quick… Ah…

“Risotto! Yes. Easy and perfect.”

Leaving Azmi behind, she rummaged through the kitchen, pulling out this and that. The counter became polluted by the necessities required to create the meal she has in mind. She did pause, just to look at the other woman in the kitchen, a pot in her hands.

“Do you know about Risotto, dear?”