hello, my friend

[blindsider]

[ Ignis wakes up smiling.

It's... presumptuous, maybe, given Noct's state of intoxication the previous evening, but he's just got a feeling. When they'd held each other, when they'd kissed - it didn't feel like a drunken mistake. It felt like magic. It had been very difficult to decine Noct's offer to join her and instead sleep in his old room. He hasn't been entirely cautious about it, though – when Noct wakes, she'll find at her bedside a bottle of water, two ibuprofen, and a little note that simply says I love you.

In the meantime, he's in the kitchen. The curtains are open to let the late morning sunshine stream into the apartment in ribbons of gold, he has the radio on low, and he's dug through the drawer full of “novelty” aprons he's been gifted over the years (delicately avoiding the one covered in pictures of cuts of meat fresh from the grill and emblazoned with EAT MY MEAT) and donned one Noct bought him, bright pink with bossy bitch in curling script across the chest. He won't cook the eggs until Noct is awake – they're not something that improves for keeping – but in the meantime there's a tremendous pile of crispy bacon stacking up, hashbrowns cooking to golden deliciousness, and a small pitcher of juice squeezed fresh from imported oranges.

Worst case scenario, if Noct wakes up mortified and full of regrets, she at least won't have to be embarrassed and hungry. ]

Comments

[linkstrike]

[ it's funny how a few hours can change one's opinion from champagne is the best! to champagne is liquid hell, but. when noctis wakes up, her head is splitting and her mouth is like sand -- it's way too tempting just to jam her head back under her pillow and sleep for the next century, but the smell of bacon has magical and altogether irresistible powers.

still, it takes even more effort than usual to pry herself out of bed -- there are a few grumbles and groans to properly express the agony of morning, followed by a little rolling around, finished off by mushing her face back into the pillow and expelling everything in her lungs in a profound sigh. but then she sits up, swings her legs over the side of the bed, and --

that's when she spots the gifts left at her bedside.

it's the note that she picks up first, fingers tracing over that familiar script as if it's necessary to commit those three little words to memory. and then, because she's still half-asleep and royally hungover, her brain convinces her that the obvious first order of business is to go verify ignis' actual existence. (or just to confirm that he hasn't stolen her car and bolted for the hills, whatever.)

which is why she shuffles out of her room looking like a zombified disasterpiece, her hair an angry black-blue cloud that's only managed to escape three-fourths of its updo. at least ignis must've coaxed her into wearing something more comfortable to bed -- the basketball shorts and the (gifted) oversized t-shirt that proudly proclaims her to be a MASTER BAITER kind of ties together the whole look.

but! she stops dead at the sight of ignis in her kitchen, staring at him as if she's never seen him cook breakfast before. and! there's a lot she wants to say! like: i'm so glad you're here or was last night real? or maybe even if that's bacon, you're getting a raise, but. her brain is still mostly fried and definitely dehydrated, and 100% not equipped for complicated emotional conversations, so. ]

Nice apron.

[blindsider]

Thank you. I'm not sure the colour is really me, but it's hard to argue with the message.

[ And all of this is delivered with a meltingly soft smile, because even like this, she's the most beautiful creature he's ever seen. He wants to scoop her into his arms and kiss her, but that introduction doesn't really give him an indication of whether it would be welcome or not. He transfers another few rashers of bacon to the pile, and tries to get his face under control. ]

Fresh orange juice? Or there's coffee, if you're feeling desperate.

[linkstrike]

[ ignis has smiled at her before. a lot of times, even! but there's something about that smile that makes her heart do a little stutter-step in her chest, and she still finds it in herself to blush even though she feels like death warmed over.

... they should almost definitely Talk, but.

life is complicated, and complications are to be strictly avoided when hungover. so instead, she just takes a few shuffling steps forward and buries her face in his chest, arms wrapping snugly around him. ]

Has anyone ever told you that you're the best?

[blindsider]

Nobody whose opinion I valued so highly.

[ Sappy, but it's true: Ignis has excelled at nearly everything he's turned his hand to since before he was even aware that was something he could aim for, but no praise has ever meant as much as the way Noctis tucks herself in against him. He lifts his hands to her hair, murmurs a quiet here, let me, and starts gently working the hairpins out - she has an awful lot of hair, and having all of it still (mostly) piled up can't be doing anything for her hangover. ]

That's been true as long as I've known you.

[linkstrike]

[ she murmurs a pleased little sound as his hands go to work in her hair, tucking her face a little further in his chest. she's always known that ignis has magic hands ever since he took over the physical therapy for her knee, but... who knew this extended to hangovers? ]

If we date, does that mean you get to make me breakfast and say nice stuff to me every morning?

[blindsider]

[ Once all the pins are out of Noct's hair Ignis keeps his fingers buried in it anyway, stroking gently just for the joy of it - though he some give a quiet, half-muffled laugh at that question. ]

Normally I'd say that sounds a little more serious than dating, but in our case you could manage that in a purely platonic fashion if you really put your foot down.

So that's... still on the table, then? You still get bacon if you say no, incidentally.

[linkstrike]

[ that's enough to make her blink, and she takes a moment to pull herself away so she can look up at him. there's a little crease in her brow, worry written clearly all over her expression. ]

Why -- [ a little pause. ] Only if you still want it to be.

[blindsider]

[ Noct pulls back, and for a moment cold panic spikes through Ignis - and then she continues, and he shifts his hand to cradle her cheek. ]

I do. Noct, of course I do. Didn't you read your note?

[linkstrike]

Yeah.

[ and to prove it, she holds up one hand, showing the little scrap of paper still pinched in her fingers. but! even though she's almost positive she's got her answer, this is a Very Important Matter. clarification is important! ]

But you know what they say... actions speak louder than words.

[blindsider]

[ He can't quite tell whether Noct is being coy, genuinely seeking confirmation, or some combination of the two. It's a little unnerving, after so many years of being constantly in each others orbit, feeling that he knows Noct better than he knows anyone - but it doesn't really matter, does it? Because either way, the answer is the same. He strokes a thumb over that cheek, ducks his head to kiss her, something soft and gentle, and -

and to hell with it. It's a reckless thing to do when he's determined to do this properly, far too close to some of his fantasies for propriety, but he shifts his hands to her hips to pick her up, and from there it's only a step and a half-turn to sit her on the kitchen counter and press in to deepen that kiss. ]