Kanan Jarrus, The Last Padawan (
uncertain_dume) wrote2019-02-14 07:39 am
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MCA #3, Thursday Evening
It was just supper.
You know. Like always, because Kanan did the cooking in this... apartment. Because it wasn't a relationship. It had been made clear that it wasn't going to be a relationship until the state of the galaxy was much improved, and Kanan respected that.
So it was just supper.
With chocolate for dessert. Chocolate that was far too bitter and far too hot for Kanan to eat without being sent into major gastronomic distress, so really, it was dessert for Hera, and Kanan would be perfectly happy with fruit salad, and he wasn't at all overthinking this, or kind of freaking out that she'd gotten him a dozen roses with a beautiful note or that Summer had upstaged him again with the damn prank flowers, he was fine about that, really. And the other flowers (and the one tiny trebuchet that had him laughing hopelessly for a good ten minutes) that had come to the apartment were okay. If he set them all around the living room then it was clearly putting everyone else's gifts on display because they were thoughtful and lovely and not even a little bit because they were atmospheric.
And he was hoping that, you know, maybe Hera wouldn't get the wrong idea from the fact that he'd clearly gone home to shop for that mynock and all the spices to go with. He'd clearly already just been in the neighborhood; he'd gotten nerf for himself too, see? Which he'd totally been planning on doing all along and hadn't just done because Jack had told him to after he'd almost killed himself with spiced chocolate.
Because, you know. It was just supper. Because Kanan did the cooking in this apartment.
[OOC: For the captain!]
You know. Like always, because Kanan did the cooking in this... apartment. Because it wasn't a relationship. It had been made clear that it wasn't going to be a relationship until the state of the galaxy was much improved, and Kanan respected that.
So it was just supper.
With chocolate for dessert. Chocolate that was far too bitter and far too hot for Kanan to eat without being sent into major gastronomic distress, so really, it was dessert for Hera, and Kanan would be perfectly happy with fruit salad, and he wasn't at all overthinking this, or kind of freaking out that she'd gotten him a dozen roses with a beautiful note or that Summer had upstaged him again with the damn prank flowers, he was fine about that, really. And the other flowers (and the one tiny trebuchet that had him laughing hopelessly for a good ten minutes) that had come to the apartment were okay. If he set them all around the living room then it was clearly putting everyone else's gifts on display because they were thoughtful and lovely and not even a little bit because they were atmospheric.
And he was hoping that, you know, maybe Hera wouldn't get the wrong idea from the fact that he'd clearly gone home to shop for that mynock and all the spices to go with. He'd clearly already just been in the neighborhood; he'd gotten nerf for himself too, see? Which he'd totally been planning on doing all along and hadn't just done because Jack had told him to after he'd almost killed himself with spiced chocolate.
Because, you know. It was just supper. Because Kanan did the cooking in this apartment.
[OOC: For the captain!]
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And Kanan gave a little laugh in reply.
"Well, than that works out great for both of us, I guess." He ate a bite of his nerf, so, so damn thankful that he'd made a more human-friendly dish for himself to eat tonight, too. "Would it be better if I said I like giving you reasons to smile?"
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Kanan smiled a little. Let go of her hand and, kind of content about this whole situation, returned to her meal.
... Tried not to be weird and watch her eat or anything. Wasn't sure what sort of small talk to dredge up for a not-Valentine's Valentine's meal.
"So," he said, once his own food was almost gone. "You like chocolate, right?"
Probably should have asked that one weeks ago.
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What had you done now, Kanan?
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"Hold that thought," he said, and... then kind of hurried out of the room.
... Please hold, Hera.
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"If you say you got a life-sized chocolate sculpture of the Ghost, we're having words," she called.
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... Maybe not life-sized. Or maybe the Phantom instead.
He made his way back out from the kitchen with the package from the chocolatier in his hand, at any rate. A selection of chocolate bars, individually wrapped. And cocoa, with the directions for making it written neatly down in Aurebesh- transcribing it was a slightly more personal touch that he really couldn't resist.
"Dessert." A pause. "To last a while."
It wasn't going to be sweet. Not even really a little bit. sharply bitter and with a burning kick of spice to go with it, on the other hand?
He was never going to admit in a million years that he'd made himself sick making sure it was perfect for her.
He was also never eating chocolate again, dammit.
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Her eyes widened when instead of what she'd been used to as chocolate she got...that. "Oh!"
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A moment later, once he'd managed to battle down that wave of nausea and a small burst of anxiety besides, he added, "... How is it?"
Besides potentially lethal to people with a low tolerance for spice.
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Never. Eating. Chocolate. Again.
Worth it.
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And that was too much spice for him, so...
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She was a very happy twi'lek with a very happy mouth right now.
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He really was going to have to learn Spanish.