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+--- Thread: Little Boxes (/thread-511.html)
- Ayden - 05-20-2014
Ayden's fears slipped away with Connor's answer. There wasn't much in the way of appropriate drinks on the top shelf. Breakfast was bit too early to start with the drinking. However it was Saturday. Ayden smiled and pulled the Orange Juice out. Everything was different in Moscow, compared to what was back home. Foreign travel was unique blend of familiar and not.
The glasses? Um. Ayden had to confess, "I honestly don't know. I've not been here long enough to find everything."
She gave Connor a sheepish grin. "This the first time I've used the kitchen."
And it was likely that she'd probably not use the kitchen again. But one never knew where the job would take you. It could be a semi-permanent residence, and it cold be a week long. The mission is what dictated her length of stay. She rarely stayed in one place for long.
Ayden opened up a cupboard next to the sink. "Here they are."
It had been a while since she'd made a good southern breakfast. Steak and eggs complete with grits and hash browns. It was hard to get the ingredients, but if you knew where to find them, or knew someone who did, it was easy. Ayden usually found what she wanted through her contacts, and rarely was she denied anything. Such was the power she held over those she contracted with. It made her smile to know she held that power of their lives over their heads.
He wanted to help, the two burner stove was hardly the place to actually work like that but what the hell. Ayden smiled. "I suppose if you don't want to be waited on I can deal with you."
She smiled playfully. "Can you cook a steak?"
Steak was one of Ayden's favorite foods, more so since joining the army, and now it continued to grow in her heart. The rare meat that melted in your mouth. Ayden's mouth watered just thinking about it. Ayden longed for the good ol' Texan grill back home. It was one of the few thing she missed about being home, about her step-father. Their memory was fading each and every day, but things like that would stay with her forever.
- Connor Kent - 05-20-2014
After Ayden got out the ingredients, she closed the door. Sheepishly she said, "This the first time I've used the kitchen."
Connor looked at her and faked worry. "Uh-oh. So you're a mean cook who's never used the kitchen? Uhhhh...Should we just order take out instead?"
He then winked at her.
She found the glasses and then started fiddling around with pots and pans, pulling out a cast iron skillet. She smiled playfully. "I suppose if you don't want to be waited on I can deal with you. Can you cook a steak?"
"Can I cook a steak?"
He mockingly changed his voice. "You see here missy, I'm from the south-west. Of course I can cook a steak."
His voice returned to normal. "Course to do it properly, I'd need a grill. But we'll make do."
He smiled at her.
The kitchen was tight- evidently kitchens even in nice Moscow apartments weren't made for couples to work together in- so he had to move closer to where she was to reach for the the paper wrapped steaks and skillet on the counter next to her. He looked down at her and sheepishly said, "Sorry. Not trying to crowd you."
Of course, he had exactly been trying to get close to her. He looked at her a moment more- God, she was beautiful.- then stepped back to the other end of the counter on the other side of the stove and started looking around at the shelves and cupboards. "Well since you don't know where anything is and I don't know where anything is, I guess we both better start exploring."
Hunting around found them the spices. He put the skillet on the burner and turned it on, to let the iron get really hot. He also switched on the stove. He unwrapped the steaks and slapped one of them making a good wet platt!- a good piece of meat- and prepared them quickly, lightly rubbing rubbing oil on the steaks, then salt and pepper. After throwing them into the skillet for a little time on both sides, he threw the whole thing into the now super hot oven.
As he worked he thought about her words, the cadence and way she had spoken. There was an accent that peeked out at times, especially when she was laughing. "Is that the south I hear on your tongue? Maybe Texas?"
Edited by Connor Kent, May 20 2014, 10:07 AM.
- Ayden - 05-20-2014
Ayden grinned as she corrected herself, "This kitchen."
She gave Connor a mock defended look then laughed. It felt glorious to laugh.
A man from the south-west, he had definitely not been Russian, but then there were a lot more non-Russians in Moscow now than ever before, as the CCD grew, the intermingling greatly increased here in it's capital. Of course a grill was not something the Moscovian rental apartments would have particularly in December.
December, the year was almost up. The depressing seasons were almost over. Ayden disliked behind alone on the holidays, maybe this one would be different. She smiled at Connor as he reached over to grab the steaks. Maybe this one would be different. Ayden liked the warmth from his arm and wished for more, but she pushed back that urge, it would be easy to take what she wanted, but taking was far from what she wanted if she wanted company for the holidays.
Ayden leaned back against the counter and watched Connor prep the steaks. He seemed competent enough and she smiled. He had been raised right!
But the fateful moment happened and Ayden was ill prepared. Her smile vanished. She'd let too much of herself show through the carefully calculated facade. The paranoia had been correct, she'd not thought of what to do in this situation. Flirting with a man whom she barely knew. Wanting to spend time with someone for more than business. Ayden fought down the bile that rose in her stomach. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Maybe."
She didn't want to say yes or no. She wanted to be normal, but normal was not the life of an assassin. Thinking on her feet, that was a skill she had to master this time, but remembering those lies was going to be the hard part. "I've been many places.
Natalia had been carefully planned, every ounce of her personality, her clothing, her story, it was planned down to the minute detail, if anything came up Ayden could handle it. But Ayden? Who was she? She didn't exist, she was a ghost, she didn't have a story, and now, she had to plan one, to think of who she was, on what was real and what was false. This was going to end badly. But Ayden put on the friendly smile. She would be normal, if only for one day. She promised herself she'd do better next time.
Ayden stood next to Connor and bumped him out of the way of the burner with her hip playfully, so she could start the water for the grits. The eggs could likely wait a little more time before starting them. They cooked quickly anyway.
What is fair is fair, Ayden asked the question in return, it didn't matter the answer, but normal people asked questions, they listened, they laughed and cried and played together. Normal was the game for today. Ayden hoped she'd pull it off as she asked, "What bring's a good ol' American boy like yourself to Moscow, the land of the rich and greedy?"
- Connor Kent - 05-20-2014
Ayden had laughed at his stupid quips. She had a sweet laugh, carefree and pure. He wanted to hear it again. And to see those bright brown eyes light up, to see her cute nose crinkle in mock-offense, to dive into her inviting smile. And when he had worked on the steaks, he was aware of her just watching him and it had felt exhilarating. It was like he was 16 again, that first time you flirt with a girl and she flirts back at you. When it looks like she really likes you as much as you her. That you might actually get to kiss her. To be able to feel that again, at his age and after all that had happened, was thrilling. He felt a kid again. Slow down buddy, he thought. Relax. I know it's been awhile since you met someone nice. But keep it together. This is a quality girl. She's not just some woman you met in a bar at last call. The thoughts relaxed him. There was no hurry.
And then-then- a simple question, asking her where she had come from, and her face fell, her answer evasive. It felt as if the sun had gone behind a cloud. He didn't know what passed through her mind. People had lots of reasons to not say where they were from. And none of them where his business. But for the first time, he felt there was more to this woman and their playful flirting. Stupid, he thought. Of course there is more to her. But for that brief period, from the time he had seen her in the lobby, to just now, nothing else existed- no past and no future. He felt like they were in their own universe, set adrift from everything else. Only that moment and that world was real.
Her look and reaction was an anchor that pulled their drifting island universe back into the real world, at least for the moment. And then, the clouds parted and once more a friendly smile appeared. She prepared a pot of water and came over next to him and playfully bumped him out of the way with her hip, smiling as before. He stood next to her, facing her, feeling how close she was, measuring her size in relation to him, how easy it would be to enfold her in his arms and feel the her heartbeat against his chest, fiery hair against his chin and neck. The feeling had changed. He was still physically attracted to her. But now, he wanted to hold her because....he didn't know why exactly. Maybe it was the way her face had fallen. He wasn't sure. Just that a part of him wanted to be there for her now. He smiled at her softly and just watched her.
And then it was his turn. "What bring's a good ol' American boy like yourself to Moscow, the land of the rich and greedy?"
It seemed their island had run aground for good. He really wasn't sure how to answer. He frowned, thinking. It had been over 3 months since he had finally found peace that fateful night, since he had accepted Hayden's death. Since he had forgiven himself. He missed his son all the time. But he knew life had to go on and he tried to live in a way that would make his son proud.
In the weeks since then, he'd had more proof that much more was going on in the world than he had a clue about. He thought back to that encounter of the Ijiraq and Tehya and Elias. He briefly tamped down a feeling of irritation at that punk kid. It wasn't worth the aggravation. But there was something about Moscow, something that kept him there. Things were happening. Things he wanted to be a part of, things that seemed to matter.
But what did he tell her? Not the whole story, surely. But he decided. He could tell a little. Not the whole thing. He was sure that she would think him crazy if he told her of the things he'd seen- as well as the stupid things he'd done. But maybe a little. Open a little to her at least.
Deciding was one thing. Talking another. And he didn't want to bring her down. They were having a good time after all. But she had asked. He decided to be brief. "My son died of the sickness about 9 months ago. After I watched him die I was in a bad place and needed answers. So I came here, for the CCD research facility studying the disease. And....I ended up staying. Got a job at a network security firm 3 months ago. And then met you, today."
He added, "It's not a bad place to be, really. Different. Interesting."
It was quiet for a moment. Maybe that was a mistake. He realized he hadn't asked her how she liked her steak. He nodded to the stove. "Rare? Medium?"
He grimaced. "Well done?"
"Medium rare will do."
He used the towel hanging off the stove to pull the skillet out. The steaks were sizzling and looked perfect, seared meat giving off a delicious aroma. He guessed at a cupboard and was lucky to find plates on the first try. He pulled two out and gently lifted the steaks onto the plates with a knife and fork, careful not to pierce the skin. They needed to cool down and rest so the juices stayed in the meat and not on the plate.
He looked at her. "These will be ready in maybe 5 minutes, I think."
Edited by Connor Kent, May 20 2014, 01:02 PM.
- Ayden - 05-21-2014
The sickness! Ayden remembered those horrid times in the infirmary. That would have been a horrible way to die. But there was only one answer, and Ayden wondered if he had gotten his answers here in Moscow. It was such a down topic, and the flirting was so much more fun. But her curiosity got the best of her.
Ayden started the eggs and added the grits to the pot. They would take the longest, she should have started them before. She tried to busy herself with the details. The small pan that she used for flipping the eggs. It was an art, one you had to practice. She remembered breaking the yolk on many occasions until she learned that art. If he wanted something else she could manage, but this was far more impressive, and she liked her eggs this way anyway.
A deft crack on the edge of the stove and the egg was broken into the hot pan with a little butter so things don't stick. Not that the pan would let anything stick to it anyway, but it was habit. She smiled at Connor. "How do you like your eggs?
. Ayden picked up the pan and with one quick flip of the pan the eggs flipped over, yoke in tact. It really was an art.
The showing off was done and her thoughts returned to his son. She had to ask."This is the only serious topic of the day, got it?
Ayden didn't expect an answer, as she continued on "Did you find answers about what happened to your son?"
- Connor Kent - 05-21-2014
After a moment of quiet, Connor started to feel uncomfortable. Yeah, maybe shouldn't have brought that up just yet. He wanted to lighten the mood. Ayden started cooking the eggs and deftly flipped them when they were ready. "Wow, guess your weren't kidding about being a good cook."
And then he gently nudged her shoulder with his hand. "Show-off."
He made sure she saw his grin. She asked about what kind of eggs he liked and he told her over-easy. His favorite. He loved the way the runny yoke mixed with the juices from the meat and got into the grits and everything.
And then in a friendly way she said, "This is the only serious topic of the day, got it?"
The statement wasn't mean. She too seemed to want to lighten the mood, but was at the same time was curious, "Did you find answers about what happened to your son?"
Connor was momentarily unsure what to say. He really didn't want to go into detail. He wanted to get back to their playful flirting. And her hearing about magic users, Ijiraqs and Atharim would definitely make her think he was a nut-job. That'd put a damper on his day, for sure. He decided to be vague....It wouldn't be a lie. To say he understood what was going on would be the lie. It would be a joke. "Uhh....sort of one. Not one that I really understand. But it was enough."
He paused. He could tell her what was really important. "But mostly I learned that it wasn't my fault. And what a gift it was to be with him during those last few weeks."
He missed his son. He took a breath, looking down, sure that his face showed the wave of grief that passed over him. But then he remembered his promise to his son, to go on. He remembered that night, when he imagined his son saying "Love you dad."
Hayden would always be with him. He softly smiled to himself. The sharp edge of grief passed. It was the undercurrent of his life, but it only made him appreciate the good parts of his life more.
Like being here, in the kitchen of a beautiful woman who seemed to like him, enjoying her company, about to eat good food. He turned to face her. He was standing right next to her, looking down into her eyes. "I learned to appreciate my life. And the little moments in life....like now.
"
He continued looking at her....
Edited by Connor Kent, May 21 2014, 09:20 AM.
- Ayden - 05-21-2014
The mood didn't brighten any with his answer. It was a depressing topic, the sickness. The grits were nearly fully cooked and the eggs sat waiting for them to be eaten. He was playful yet serious and Ayden couldn't help but feel the chemistry that flowed between them. He stared into her eyes, and she couldn't help but smile and blush at the same time. So much for taking it slow. Ayden stepped up on her tip toes and kissed him softly on the lips.
This was not a one night stand she promised herself. Ayden pulled back and handed Connor an empty glass, with a content smile. "I think something a bit stronger than orange juice is called for."
She didn't intend to get either of them drunk, but the mood had gotten serious, in more ways than one. She wanted more than a kiss, but she fear ran inside her mind like butterflies trapped in a giant jar. Sure you can fly around, but you are still trapped. Ayden didn't like feeling trapped. He was a good person, she was not. She made a living at being bad, killing for a living. Ayden hoped her paranoia didn't show through as she grabbed the champagne from the wine cooler. Lies and relationships don't fit well. This was probably a bad idea, but why did it feel so great just being near him.
"You grab the food, I'll get the drinks."
- Connor Kent - 05-21-2014
....he continued looking at her. Just gazing into her eyes, soft deep brown, staring back up at him. Her face filled his vision. He was connected to her. She smiled at him, a warm and languorous smile and her cheeks reddened. His heart pounded like thunder in his chest. He saw longing in her eyes. He felt it echo with his own, back and forth, a feed back. He held still, enjoying that pregnant moment, the promise, the agony, breathing her in. The moment stretched. And then she brought her lips to his and electricity shot through him, her lips soft and tender. He felt her body brush against his and he trembled inside.
And then, she moved back, the kiss ending. His heart pounded and he breathed heavily. She was still looking up at him with those eyes and that hunger. She stepped back and handed him an empty glass and said in softer voice, "I think something a bit stronger than orange juice is called for."
She turned around, his eyes locked on her, unable to look away, and went to the cooler and pulled out some champagne.
He gave his head a little shake to clear his mind. Be easy man, he thought. It's ok. Take it slow. Don't rush this. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman. Part of him wanted to just take her right then and there, throwing caution to the wind. To just give in to all the pent up emotion, and passion and animal heat, to tear down the walls of self-control and to consummate this volcanic thing they had with their whole bodies. She was electric to him. Being around her fired him beyond anything he had imagined, this woman he had known for a half hour, this Ayden, this fiery haired goddess, her hand gripping his heart.
He breathed again, slowing himself down, a storm raging in his mind. But he didn't just want to sleep with her. One night stands could be fun- he'd enjoyed them- but ultimately were fleeting, two people using each other to fulfill a need. Desperately taken as they were to feel, for one brief moment, a connection to another soul, to life, to the uncaring universe, they often left an unfilled void the next day, loneliness, vacuous. It was masturbation with another person, momentary, transitory and empty. But he really liked her, liked the way she was. There was a germ of a real connection there, between him and her. He wanted that, wanted that connection to grow, if it could. There was still time for him and her, for that moment, when it came later.
The storm calmed and he returned to himself. He felt more at peace, relaxed. She turned around, a hint of a smile on her lips. Then she walked around the counter towards the table. "You grab the food, I'll get the drinks."
He took the pan and gently let the eggs slip onto each plate. Then he spooned up the grits. She had gotten out silverware and he grabbed those as well and took everything to the table where they both sat down. She had made mimosas. It was quiet. He picked up his glass. "To heavy crates and a mean cook."
He smiled at her.
- Ayden - 05-21-2014
Ayden watched Connor as he walked to the table. She liked watching him move. It made thing stir deep down. She smiled brightly at him as she sat down across from him at the table.
Ayden clinked her glass against Connor's with a laugh "To heavy crates and a mean cook.
Ayden cut into the perfect steak and savored the flavor. It was hard not to talk with her mouth full to relay her thoughts, but she managed to maintain her lady-like composure. "Two mean cooks. Excellent steak!"
Breakfast consisted of small talk and eating. Mostly talking. Ayden tried to stay away from the big questions. The where are you from, what do you do and tried to make it so the conversation never went anywhere real. Her story had to be straight, it wasn't cut and dry. If she were Natalia, things would be easier. Being Ayden was so much harder. Weather, current events just about anything to keep their minds from what it was they both wanted to do.
Smiles and quips and slight touch of the hands. Laughter. It was a good breakfast, it felt like time had stopped. It was both gratifying and frustrating.
Every once and a while through out the meal Ayden ran her foot up and down Connor's leg. It was an accident at first, but the closeness and warmth of his body, she wanted to touch him, feel him close. It was very hard to maintain a cool composure.
The last bite was taken, the last of the mimosa mixture was gone. Not a bad breakfast at all. Ayden stacked the plates and other things that needed washing. Ayden stood up with a smile, her tummy was content, but the rest of her was not. She smiled as she walked around the table the long way and ran her fingers through Connor's hair before reaching over his back to pick up the plates. Her breast pressed up against his back, Ayden was dying to kiss the back of his neck. But she fought the urge with every fiber in her body.
It took the strength of ten men to pull herself away from Connor, and walk the dishes to the nearby sink. She hoped he'd follow, hoped she hadn't come on too strong. It was all hope, normal went out the window a long time ago.
- Connor Kent - 05-21-2014
Ayden echoed his toast with a smile. The crisp citrus flavor was cut with the tingling bubbles of the champagne, and he felt them through his nose. Connor relaxed even more. And then they both cut into their steaks. Perfect. It melted in his mouth. Everything was good. Ayden seemed to savor the flavors of her food as well. But around bites both of them talked about everything and nothing, nothing real or substantial. They both knew what they were working toward and wanted nothing to bar their way.
The mimosas had their effect on them. They smiled and laughed a lot, flirty playful touches and brushes of hand and arm. Connor felt warmth suffuse his body and felt flushed. The meal took on an ethereal aspect, as if the world had closed in around them and only they two existed; the only sound was that of their voice, the world outside muffled by the fog. Ayden's foot bumped his leg but didn't immediately retract. He thrilled. But it happened again, foot lingering more and more, and running up and down his leg. His reaction was immediate and once there, remained firm. There would be no more pulling back, no lull this time. His heart thundered in his chest, his breathing becoming shallow and predatory, a hunter. When he let his breath out through his nose, he felt a deep trembling.
He stared at her. It was all he could do not to sweep the dishes from the table and pull her to him and have her there. But the anticipation, the hovering on the brink, that sweet build up, the rising tension, the hunger itself, was as delicious as any meal they had eaten. Better. He savored it, the delayed gratification, seeing her pupils dilate, her skin become flushed and her voice more breathy, the brush and touches more lingering.
When breakfast was done, she rose to stack the plates and he watched her body move. So lithe, panther-like, taut muscle and curves moving beneath her shirt, as she leaned over to get everything. He could almost feel her with his gaze. His eyes seized hers for a moment and she paused. Hunger pulsed between them, pulsed again. His mind slowly had extinguished every avenue of thought until only one thing remained. She came over to his side of the table and he sat perfectly still, not turning his head, wanting to savor the moment. He became aware of her behind him, and then her hand running through his hair. Inwardly he growled. His heartbeat sped up. He needed this woman As she leaned over to get his plate, he felt her breast against his neck, her arm reaching out beside his face. For a moment, he was partially enclosed by her, feeling her body radiate heat. He felt safe and warm.
She lingered, and then she pulled back, walking to the kitchen. He suddenly felt cold and alone. He didn't want to be alone. No more. He needed this, he needed her. Months of storms churned inside him. He needed an anchor, a safe harbor; a place of peace. He didn't want to weather storms alone anymore. This, this woman, this was what he wanted, what he needed, what he craved. Now. He watched her perfect rump sway as she walked everything to the kitchen. The chair made a scraping sound against the floor as he stood up. He was the hunter and he moved like a predator, coming up behind her, putting his arms around her, burying his face into the side of her neck, inhaling her in, letting their bodies merge. His hands around her waist began to rove upward, cupping breast, brushing collar bone, caressing neck, pulling her against him. Turning her face to the side, he kissed her....and it had begun.
He turned her around and enfolded her in his arms, kissing her deeply. Then he picked her up- she was air in his arms- and took her to the couch. He began to undress her, first shirt and jeans, all the while kissing her gently. He moved back to appreciate the goddess before him, her perfect ivory skin; her beautiful breasts and inviting stomach and waist; her legs sculpted from marble. With that hair she was Pele, goddess of fire, who burned alive mortal men with her volcanic power. She demanded worship and obeisance, everything that was her due.
And he would worship her, would pray in the temple of her body. He would perform the rites of passion and the liturgy of lust. He was going to take his time. He was going to make sure that she had her moment repeatedly. And he would entomb himself in her, let her rip his heart out and devour his soul.