( daniel's head tilts, brown eyes slowly going over the big red words on the little card poking from the soil, stating the species and its care instructions. lightly chuckling, he smiles again and returns his gaze back to daisy. ) I'm sure a city boy like me can figure it out.
( their brown eyes meet. a slight breeze ruffles the millefleur curtains as the classical piece ends on the radio and the college aged host reappears to recite the piece's name. but the name falls on deaf ears. to daniel, it's like time stops for a moment. right here, right now, it's just the two of them. what does it matter that captain rogers and his friends are still not allowed back in the states? what does it matter that alien ships from thano's failed quest still litter the jungles of wakanda? what does it matter that, right now, the literal god of thunder, thor, is arguing with the nations of earth to accept his people as refugees? and what does it matter that he's struggling to find his place in this new world? all that matters to daniel is the woman standing across the threshold of his door. a woman who has endured so much pain and faced so many threats and, yet, has come out a stronger person. who cares about anything else?
the freedom brought on by the thought jolts him awake from his somnolence. it's like he's been asleep for the past month and a half. it's the twenty-first century! captain rogers is alive! aliens exist! the literal god of thunder, thor, is a real figure! daniel's in a new world with all these new opportunities laid out in front of him! all he has to do is reach out and stick his foot in the breadfruit (don't ask, it's a portuguese idiom his pai would always say).
daniel takes a half step forward towards daisy, letting go of the doorknob. it's no longer needed.
suddenly, the scent of something burning fills his nostrils. it takes his brain a second to register the smell.
his soup!
daniel hisses, ) Oh shoot. ( turning on his heels, he rushes back to the kitchen and pulls the pot of smoking blackened onions and garlic off the burner. the pot gets pushed into the sink. the water leftover at the bottom of the sink sizzles from the heat. )
[ she'd forgotten how nice his eyes are too. it's only been a few weeks and yet everything feels new again, like any progress they'd made in their time together was put on pause and is still trying to catch up. the way she wants to both kiss him senseless and run right out of the building speaks volumes of the way he still affects her when their eyes meet and time seems to stop.
she'd missed this. the feeling of falling for someone, the excitement and thrill mixed with sheer terror and a yearning for something she hasn't had in so long. and even though her anxiety is trying to tell her there isn't a hope in hell of this working out, she remembers all those time loops and the way she now knows without a shred of doubt who daniel sousa is, and she tells that anxiety to shut the hell up.
he starts to move toward her and her heartbeat quickens, her pulse racing at all the possibilities — and then that smell reaches her as well. it really is hard not to laugh at the way he rushes, but she does her very best.
rather than continue standing in the hall waiting for an express invitation, she hesitantly enters the apartment, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. with a cursory glance around, she notes the open window and walks to it, carefully setting the plant down on the nearest flat surface. then she takes a moment to make sure the window is open as far as it can go before turning back and moving to the edge of the kitchen with a cautiously curious expression. ]
Anything I can do to help? [ he's already burned something, so whatever her disastrous skills can manage surely has to be better than that. right? ]
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( their brown eyes meet. a slight breeze ruffles the millefleur curtains as the classical piece ends on the radio and the college aged host reappears to recite the piece's name. but the name falls on deaf ears. to daniel, it's like time stops for a moment. right here, right now, it's just the two of them. what does it matter that captain rogers and his friends are still not allowed back in the states? what does it matter that alien ships from thano's failed quest still litter the jungles of wakanda? what does it matter that, right now, the literal god of thunder, thor, is arguing with the nations of earth to accept his people as refugees? and what does it matter that he's struggling to find his place in this new world? all that matters to daniel is the woman standing across the threshold of his door. a woman who has endured so much pain and faced so many threats and, yet, has come out a stronger person. who cares about anything else?
the freedom brought on by the thought jolts him awake from his somnolence. it's like he's been asleep for the past month and a half. it's the twenty-first century! captain rogers is alive! aliens exist! the literal god of thunder, thor, is a real figure! daniel's in a new world with all these new opportunities laid out in front of him! all he has to do is reach out and stick his foot in the breadfruit (don't ask, it's a portuguese idiom his pai would always say).
daniel takes a half step forward towards daisy, letting go of the doorknob. it's no longer needed.
suddenly, the scent of something burning fills his nostrils. it takes his brain a second to register the smell.
his soup!
daniel hisses, ) Oh shoot. ( turning on his heels, he rushes back to the kitchen and pulls the pot of smoking blackened onions and garlic off the burner. the pot gets pushed into the sink. the water leftover at the bottom of the sink sizzles from the heat. )
no subject
she'd missed this. the feeling of falling for someone, the excitement and thrill mixed with sheer terror and a yearning for something she hasn't had in so long. and even though her anxiety is trying to tell her there isn't a hope in hell of this working out, she remembers all those time loops and the way she now knows without a shred of doubt who daniel sousa is, and she tells that anxiety to shut the hell up.
he starts to move toward her and her heartbeat quickens, her pulse racing at all the possibilities — and then that smell reaches her as well. it really is hard not to laugh at the way he rushes, but she does her very best.
rather than continue standing in the hall waiting for an express invitation, she hesitantly enters the apartment, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. with a cursory glance around, she notes the open window and walks to it, carefully setting the plant down on the nearest flat surface. then she takes a moment to make sure the window is open as far as it can go before turning back and moving to the edge of the kitchen with a cautiously curious expression. ]
Anything I can do to help? [ he's already burned something, so whatever her disastrous skills can manage surely has to be better than that. right? ]