3 Ashan 720
The second glass of was not as forgiving as the first. Yeva had to take a bit more time to compose herself, and Azrael, sensing this, rubbed her back, "Wine's supposed to be sipped, not thrown back like a liquor."
"I know," she grumbled, breathing out the vapors of fire and regret, "You were being a brat."
"As opposed to...my delightful personality any other time?"
She groaned in annoyance.
He seemed to take the hint and swirled his glass, "Have you eaten today?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"I don't remember... Around the time we had the cheese plate. So, lunch?"
It was nearly dinner time.
"That was awhile ago."
"I'm fine, Azrael."
"Alright."
Yeva went back to her book, "I think this dough is ready, which means I need to shape it, and then give it time to rise." She patted it into a nice round oval.
"How long does that take?"
"I'm not sure. A break or so? Maybe a little less... Let me check the recipe."
Always refer to the recipe. While she was learning, it would be imperative they followed their instructions as closely as possible. Yeva walked across the room to rinse her hands and then wrapped around the counter to flip a few pages, "Knead for ten minutes by hand...Done... Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl...coat... Aha! Cover the bowl loosely with a damp rag and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, thirty to forty-five bits. Easy. Now, where's the oil?" she glanced at the kitchen and then the bag of groceries they had brought with them. After a bit of rummaging, she found the bottle, along with a large bowl, "According to everything I've read, after the first rise, we'll have the second rise-"
"Second rise?" Azrael was growing restless, his head falling back dramatically, "You keep adding steps."
"After the first rise, the second rise should take a break or two, it really just depends. The book says it should be ready when it's doubled in size. Then we score the surface with a knife and let it bake... Hmm..." Yeva paused in rubbing the sides of the bowl, hands slick and shiny to try and skim the recipe from afar. She squinted, her nose wrinkled, "Another thirty or forty-five. What?"
He was making a face. Exasperation.
"It's a quick rising bread, it'll be fine. Here, turn over that hourglass. I don't even know why you're complaining. Now you get to be the center of attention again."
"Hm. True."
"Throw me that rag, please? I want to finish cleaning up."
Right, her face. Azrael finished his glass and threw the fabric as requested, where it clearly missed and went crumpling to the ground. Yeva shot him a look. Really? "You did that on purpose."
He protested, clearly amused, "I didn't!"
"Yes, you did," she retorted, walking over to bend at the waist to pick it up. From his vantage point, Azrael could see the shape of her ass, round and full as the medic leaned forward and the fabric of her pants stretched tight. The white feathers of his wings begin to rustle at the sight, 'Fuck,' he realized in slight surprise, no longer caring whether his glass was refilled, 'Maybe I did.'
He clicked his talons together and forced himself to look away when she straightened. A rush of dizziness overtook her and she had to pause. Her limbs felt heavy and for some reason, she was quite aware of her hands. Yeva flexed the fingers and touched her stomach where a battle raged, wiping at the rest of the flour on her face, "So, what do you want to do while we wait?"
"So much," he breathed, not noticing he had switched to Lorein.
Yeva laughed, happy to have understood at least that much. She did her best to reply, "Really? Yes? Tell please."
Syroa have mercy, this woman would be the death of him.
The Avriel licked his lips, youthful and primal urges demanded he soon show her, but that was not why he had asked her to drink. If she thought that... well, it would shatter too much trust. And there had been so much progress, the Avriel hoping to shift their friendship to something more should she allow it. Since Athart, sometimes they even shared a bed. Not quite in the nature he would have liked, but Yeva allowed him to hold her while they slept, where as in Saun, she had been mortified by the very idea.
He had to maintain control before bread wasn't the only thing rising. Azrael nodded towards her book. If there was any bigger mood killer, it would be whatever scholarly thing she was currently into, "I'll help you study" to make sure she understood the final verb, he repeated it in Common.
"Really~!" Yeva jumped, clapping her hands while raced to grab her book bag by the door. Then she skidded, sliding slightly across the hardwood floor in her socks when trying to stop, "You normally hate books."
"Yeah, well... I've been drinking."
"I know," she grumbled, breathing out the vapors of fire and regret, "You were being a brat."
"As opposed to...my delightful personality any other time?"
She groaned in annoyance.
He seemed to take the hint and swirled his glass, "Have you eaten today?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"I don't remember... Around the time we had the cheese plate. So, lunch?"
It was nearly dinner time.
"That was awhile ago."
"I'm fine, Azrael."
"Alright."
Yeva went back to her book, "I think this dough is ready, which means I need to shape it, and then give it time to rise." She patted it into a nice round oval.
"How long does that take?"
"I'm not sure. A break or so? Maybe a little less... Let me check the recipe."
Always refer to the recipe. While she was learning, it would be imperative they followed their instructions as closely as possible. Yeva walked across the room to rinse her hands and then wrapped around the counter to flip a few pages, "Knead for ten minutes by hand...Done... Transfer the dough to an oiled bowl...coat... Aha! Cover the bowl loosely with a damp rag and let rise in a warm place until doubled in volume, thirty to forty-five bits. Easy. Now, where's the oil?" she glanced at the kitchen and then the bag of groceries they had brought with them. After a bit of rummaging, she found the bottle, along with a large bowl, "According to everything I've read, after the first rise, we'll have the second rise-"
"Second rise?" Azrael was growing restless, his head falling back dramatically, "You keep adding steps."
"After the first rise, the second rise should take a break or two, it really just depends. The book says it should be ready when it's doubled in size. Then we score the surface with a knife and let it bake... Hmm..." Yeva paused in rubbing the sides of the bowl, hands slick and shiny to try and skim the recipe from afar. She squinted, her nose wrinkled, "Another thirty or forty-five. What?"
He was making a face. Exasperation.
"It's a quick rising bread, it'll be fine. Here, turn over that hourglass. I don't even know why you're complaining. Now you get to be the center of attention again."
"Hm. True."
"Throw me that rag, please? I want to finish cleaning up."
Right, her face. Azrael finished his glass and threw the fabric as requested, where it clearly missed and went crumpling to the ground. Yeva shot him a look. Really? "You did that on purpose."
He protested, clearly amused, "I didn't!"
"Yes, you did," she retorted, walking over to bend at the waist to pick it up. From his vantage point, Azrael could see the shape of her ass, round and full as the medic leaned forward and the fabric of her pants stretched tight. The white feathers of his wings begin to rustle at the sight, 'Fuck,' he realized in slight surprise, no longer caring whether his glass was refilled, 'Maybe I did.'
He clicked his talons together and forced himself to look away when she straightened. A rush of dizziness overtook her and she had to pause. Her limbs felt heavy and for some reason, she was quite aware of her hands. Yeva flexed the fingers and touched her stomach where a battle raged, wiping at the rest of the flour on her face, "So, what do you want to do while we wait?"
"So much," he breathed, not noticing he had switched to Lorein.
Yeva laughed, happy to have understood at least that much. She did her best to reply, "Really? Yes? Tell please."
Syroa have mercy, this woman would be the death of him.
The Avriel licked his lips, youthful and primal urges demanded he soon show her, but that was not why he had asked her to drink. If she thought that... well, it would shatter too much trust. And there had been so much progress, the Avriel hoping to shift their friendship to something more should she allow it. Since Athart, sometimes they even shared a bed. Not quite in the nature he would have liked, but Yeva allowed him to hold her while they slept, where as in Saun, she had been mortified by the very idea.
He had to maintain control before bread wasn't the only thing rising. Azrael nodded towards her book. If there was any bigger mood killer, it would be whatever scholarly thing she was currently into, "I'll help you study" to make sure she understood the final verb, he repeated it in Common.
"Really~!" Yeva jumped, clapping her hands while raced to grab her book bag by the door. Then she skidded, sliding slightly across the hardwood floor in her socks when trying to stop, "You normally hate books."
"Yeah, well... I've been drinking."
