[What August doesn’t know is that Rosie’s decided to hide out under the other chair in the small living room space. One of her usual spots. But she keeps to the shadows while he makes himself comfortable, quietly observing him.]
Uhh… the bottle’s on the table. [Right in front of him, actually. There’s a nearly-empty bottle of white, a glass with a few sips left sitting next to it. Her phone is there too, having been haphazardly placed somewhere near the edge before she got up to answer the door. Blanket half on the sofa cushions, half on the floor.]
Maybe two of those? [A pause, and then a snort of amusement.] Almost two I guess. I’m fine.
[When she joins him, everything he’s made for her is on a plate, and the “tea” is tucked beneath an arm. She needs both hands for the plate. Other than that - she is in stellar condition for someone who’s wine-trashed.]
I can’t believe you cooked for me again. You’re so sweet. Beyond sweet? [Wait.] Perfect. [That sounds better.
And she carefully sets everything down on the table so she can sit beside him.]
I'd like to think it's because, as a friend, I want you to be all right. [ because they're friends now, right? or close to it. whatever they have now isn't only locked between intimacy anymore. ] Don't forget to fill your fridge and whatnot.
[ august knows that wendy is a grown adult woman who can do whatever she pleases and he can't force her to change. however, he would like for wendy to take better care of herself beyond being occupied with work — a hypocritical thought, he knows, considering what he's done in his youth. still, the responsibility to live beyond breathing and drinking wine like there's no tomorrow... another hypocritical thought yet he doesn't care. listen to him, do not do what he does, etc.
eyes shift to the plate she brings before they return to her as he leans back on the couch. ]
I hope my arrival today will remind you for tomorrow. [ and now, a question: ] How is it?
[Ah yes. The f-word. He says it and she pauses, mid-blanket fussing (she gets cold, even with all the alcohol in her system), considering for a moment. Are they… friends? She supposes so. There are certainly a lot of benefits to said friendship if that’s what it is. Labels can be complicated, but from personal experience… going without any can be more trouble than it’s worth. So - friends. Sure.]
You can be a sweet, perfect friend.
[Wendy’s silly when she’s had a bit too much to drink. But still quite functioning. No dizzy behavior, impeccable texting skills. Definitely looser when it comes to running her mouth, but in an endearing way. At least for now. He has surprised her and brought her food and she’s utterly pleased with the whole situation here. Not to mention smitten about him.]
I won’t forget. Look - [Once she’s nice and settled, Wendy’s picking up her phone and a reminder is set. At some point (hopefully) tomorrow, she will be reminded about groceries. See - she even shows him said reminder. That way he knows she isn’t lying.] Double reminder.
[And then the device is unceremoniously dropped to the couch cushion. It can be dealt with later because now is Food Time and nothing quite matches the loveliness that is soaking up booze with burger.
…And this probably the loveliest burger she’s ever had. She takes that first bite, then another. She nearly talks with her mouth full and ends up covering it with her free hand while she chews. The perfect example of ladylike behavior.]
Oh my god.
[There’s his answer. Unless he wants to hold for a few moments while her wine-addled brain processes something more adequate.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Uhh… the bottle’s on the table. [Right in front of him, actually. There’s a nearly-empty bottle of white, a glass with a few sips left sitting next to it. Her phone is there too, having been haphazardly placed somewhere near the edge before she got up to answer the door. Blanket half on the sofa cushions, half on the floor.]
Maybe two of those? [A pause, and then a snort of amusement.] Almost two I guess. I’m fine.
[When she joins him, everything he’s made for her is on a plate, and the “tea” is tucked beneath an arm. She needs both hands for the plate. Other than that - she is in stellar condition for someone who’s wine-trashed.]
I can’t believe you cooked for me again. You’re so sweet. Beyond sweet? [Wait.] Perfect. [That sounds better.
And she carefully sets everything down on the table so she can sit beside him.]
no subject
[ august knows that wendy is a grown adult woman who can do whatever she pleases and he can't force her to change. however, he would like for wendy to take better care of herself beyond being occupied with work — a hypocritical thought, he knows, considering what he's done in his youth. still, the responsibility to live beyond breathing and drinking wine like there's no tomorrow... another hypocritical thought yet he doesn't care. listen to him, do not do what he does, etc.
eyes shift to the plate she brings before they return to her as he leans back on the couch. ]
I hope my arrival today will remind you for tomorrow. [ and now, a question: ] How is it?
no subject
You can be a sweet, perfect friend.
[Wendy’s silly when she’s had a bit too much to drink. But still quite functioning. No dizzy behavior, impeccable texting skills. Definitely looser when it comes to running her mouth, but in an endearing way. At least for now. He has surprised her and brought her food and she’s utterly pleased with the whole situation here. Not to mention smitten about him.]
I won’t forget. Look - [Once she’s nice and settled, Wendy’s picking up her phone and a reminder is set. At some point (hopefully) tomorrow, she will be reminded about groceries. See - she even shows him said reminder. That way he knows she isn’t lying.] Double reminder.
[And then the device is unceremoniously dropped to the couch cushion. It can be dealt with later because now is Food Time and nothing quite matches the loveliness that is soaking up booze with burger.
…And this probably the loveliest burger she’s ever had. She takes that first bite, then another. She nearly talks with her mouth full and ends up covering it with her free hand while she chews. The perfect example of ladylike behavior.]
Oh my god.
[There’s his answer. Unless he wants to hold for a few moments while her wine-addled brain processes something more adequate.]