"What? Is it not juiletting? I told you, I don't cook! If I can't put it in a microwave or it's not pasta, I have no idea what I'm doing." And even then, his pasta was just jarred sauce and boiled water and even that had taken him a long time to finesse. Seriously, cooking was not his thing at all.
He smiles. "Me too. She was the one good thing Dad ever did." And maybe Pogo but he was always more inclined to take Dad's side in things. Mum at least cared about them and did her best.
"Nope, never. Unless you count not being born here." Wow, he'd never really thought about going anywhere else, seeing anything. Perhaps it had just never seemed possible until now. "I'd want to go somewhere with, like, amazing food. Like, Italy or something."
"Julienne," she corrects, though no hint of judging. Her own skills are basic, she never really had anyone to impress and her own standards were fairly low in most aspects of life. As long as things weren't undercooked or burnt, she usually considered it a success. "And I don't actually know what it means. I just assume cut up, but make it fancy." Luckily there were youtube videos for those sorts of things.
Or they could just continue with takeout. Because this was good. Ava stays quiet for a bit to eat, missing her mouth a few times and trying to keep her frustrations down by gripping his hand tighter. She's at least stubborn enough not to give up in the middle of simple tasks like she used to be.
She needs this though, the casual talk of plans for a future, things to look forward to even if the specifics never pan out. She has to believe there is one for her, otherwise the existential dread becomes too much. "You really do like pasta, huh?"
"Oh. My mistake." Diego laughs and shakes his head at himself because, yeah, that was a dumb mistake but also, he had no reason to know it because he had never once needed to use the technique. "We could just google it."
Diego doesn't watch Ava struggle because she doesn't need him to assess everything she does and she definitely doesn't need him watching her like a hawk when her abilities make things difficult for her.
"Pasta is easy to cook but also you can have so many different kinds!"
She puts down her fork and reaches across to gingerly cup Diego's chin to make sure he's looking at her, knows he's laughing it off but doesn't quite like the way he's called it a mistake. Not over something so inconsequential. "I thought it was cute," she tells him.
"Besides," she adds, "I can maybe name two types of noodles. Spaghetti and macaroni." She knows there's plenty of other shapes, but honestly, she thinks they all taste about the same. But she enjoys his enthusiasm, likes getting to learn more about the sorts of things that Diego likes. It's weird how little she knew until today.
"How's your head doing?" she brushes her fingers lightly through his hair again, coming close to but careful to avoid the actual bump. "I meant to grab you ice before..."
Diego leans into her hand and smiles. "It can be our thing. We Juliette our vegetables." And yeah, that makes him feel better about it.
"Well, those are two of the best kinds. I always make bow ties for Klaus." There was no real reason why; it started because that's all he had at the time and it had somehow become a thing that he did. "But the sauces are all different and I want to taste them from the people who invented it or whatever."
He'd almost forgotten that he was injured at all, lost in the moment with Ava. "It's fine. I kinda forgot I was even hurt."
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He smiles. "Me too. She was the one good thing Dad ever did." And maybe Pogo but he was always more inclined to take Dad's side in things. Mum at least cared about them and did her best.
"Nope, never. Unless you count not being born here." Wow, he'd never really thought about going anywhere else, seeing anything. Perhaps it had just never seemed possible until now. "I'd want to go somewhere with, like, amazing food. Like, Italy or something."
no subject
Or they could just continue with takeout. Because this was good. Ava stays quiet for a bit to eat, missing her mouth a few times and trying to keep her frustrations down by gripping his hand tighter. She's at least stubborn enough not to give up in the middle of simple tasks like she used to be.
She needs this though, the casual talk of plans for a future, things to look forward to even if the specifics never pan out. She has to believe there is one for her, otherwise the existential dread becomes too much. "You really do like pasta, huh?"
no subject
Diego doesn't watch Ava struggle because she doesn't need him to assess everything she does and she definitely doesn't need him watching her like a hawk when her abilities make things difficult for her.
"Pasta is easy to cook but also you can have so many different kinds!"
no subject
"Besides," she adds, "I can maybe name two types of noodles. Spaghetti and macaroni." She knows there's plenty of other shapes, but honestly, she thinks they all taste about the same. But she enjoys his enthusiasm, likes getting to learn more about the sorts of things that Diego likes. It's weird how little she knew until today.
"How's your head doing?" she brushes her fingers lightly through his hair again, coming close to but careful to avoid the actual bump. "I meant to grab you ice before..."
no subject
"Well, those are two of the best kinds. I always make bow ties for Klaus." There was no real reason why; it started because that's all he had at the time and it had somehow become a thing that he did. "But the sauces are all different and I want to taste them from the people who invented it or whatever."
He'd almost forgotten that he was injured at all, lost in the moment with Ava. "It's fine. I kinda forgot I was even hurt."