Post by THOMAS ARTHUR WEASLEY on Dec 3, 2014 10:06:12 GMT
Words: 376 Outfit: Here SHIN OF ADOX | He knew how to make toast, and even that not always well. That wasn't entirely true. He'd managed a few passable - used very, very liberally - sauces and broths, along with one very well-done roast of beef, but when it came to the kitchen Thomas' skill largely ended somewhere between bewitching knives to chop vegetables and boiling water for tea. But he wanted so very much, at least this once, to try and be not terrible. So much so that he'd resorted to Muggle methods as prescribed in the copy of Mordicus Egg's Cooking the Muggle Way he'd borrowed from his grandmother. As it stood what he had managed to successfully make was a great mess of the small kitchen unit in the modest flat he shared with his older brother, who had generously found 'work business' to be about for the better part of that night. Theirs wasn't so much a new relationship, but when it came to Madison, Thomas found himself strangely perfectly fine with doing things - like cooking for a private dinner date for two - he'd have sniggered at in the past. The prospect of being domesticated still made him more than a little uneasy, but he was trying it on for size. "Add onions and... sweat?" he read aloud to himself, then paused and stared in astonishment at the page. "Onions can perspire?" Nonetheless, Thomas added the minced legumes to the pan, the oil in which cracked and kicked up loudly on receipt. A stray bit jumped up and bit him like a stinging insect, catching the bare flesh on the back of his hand. "Ow!" The affected hand shot reactively to his mouth for the kind of ease no tongue could provide. "Should have stuck to boiling." He was so distracted, he didn't even hear the click of the latch disengaging or the front door of the flat opening only a small stretch of space away. He was certainly not ready; his sweater still folded over the back of a chair, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, and a frilled half-apron - literally, the only one he could find - already decorated in stains that otherwise would have adorned the front of his trousers. MADISON LEANN ENTWHISTLE |
