"That couldn't be farther from the truth. Even the smallest kitchen runs smoother with a commis chef, you know; whether you've cooked before or not, it's still an important job." Is a kitchen really such a sacred, magical place? Even for someone who finds so much love and joy there, it's still a place Trey finds thoroughly grounded in reality and practicality. All manner of treasured moments can be made in the kitchen--but so can aching feet and backs, scalds and burns, painful knife slips, the mindless tedium of chopping and stirring and cleaning, countless messes.....
The kitchen is where life happens, glamorous and ugly, satisfying and painful, frustrating and uplifting. Somewhere in the middle of all that learning, growing, experimenting, hard work, and minutia, you learn how to be who you are.
Trey is patient enough to wait and listen in silence, sipping his tea as he gives Riddle the space he needs to stumble through..... through..... It's a minor miracle Trey doesn't choke, staring at Riddle in pure bewilderment. He couldn't possibly have heard Riddle right, could he? It's Riddle, after all. That sort of obscenity isn't even remotely-- "You want to--"
Oh. Oh Seven, he needs to get his head together. To think he'd actually believed for a moment that the request had been less than pure..... Their repaired friendship still feels like such a tenuous, fragile thing, with so much potential to shatter like a fallen teacup in his hands if he handles it too roughly. A misunderstanding like that would be nothing but unnecessary stress on it, wouldn't it? "I-I mean..... of course. I'd be glad to."
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The kitchen is where life happens, glamorous and ugly, satisfying and painful, frustrating and uplifting. Somewhere in the middle of all that learning, growing, experimenting, hard work, and minutia, you learn how to be who you are.
Trey is patient enough to wait and listen in silence, sipping his tea as he gives Riddle the space he needs to stumble through..... through..... It's a minor miracle Trey doesn't choke, staring at Riddle in pure bewilderment. He couldn't possibly have heard Riddle right, could he? It's Riddle, after all. That sort of obscenity isn't even remotely-- "You want to--"
Oh. Oh Seven, he needs to get his head together. To think he'd actually believed for a moment that the request had been less than pure..... Their repaired friendship still feels like such a tenuous, fragile thing, with so much potential to shatter like a fallen teacup in his hands if he handles it too roughly. A misunderstanding like that would be nothing but unnecessary stress on it, wouldn't it? "I-I mean..... of course. I'd be glad to."