transgressings | inbox for duplicity;

Perhaps it had been part of my fate all along.

[ There's a piece of her smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, maybe even a sadness in it, but she won't permit it to linger for very long, especially not once he slips her glass from her fingers to sample the taste of its contents for himself — and she tips her head back to note the shift in his expression, trying to gauge whether he enjoys it compared to his original selection.

But they aren't spared much time for further conversation before he jumps up and hurries away to answer the door, venturing downstairs to where most deliveries are no doubt dropped off; she discerns a few snippets of the conversation but nothing that makes sense to her in any way before the door closes and he finally comes back into view.

By then, she's shifted to perch on the edge of the sofa, eyeing the flat box in his hands with no shortage of curiosity — but something in what she'd overheard does give her pause, and she has to figure out how best to pose her question. ]

Did I hear you correctly, in that he almost — ? [ She's not even certain how to finish it once she's started. ]

[Dante lets out a very tired, very exasperated sigh, picking up a bunch of bar napkins on the counter of the kitchenette thing on the way, shaking his head when he sets the pizza box on the corner of the table in front of the couch.] You'd think that if there was something in this place that wouldn't be about pornography or sex, it would be food services, but. Guess I was wrong.

[Dante isn't usually the kind of guy who is careful about spillage, broken things, things that aren't dirty - he'll make an exception to certain smells, but when you have a demonic olfactory sense, you get used to most things early on. But for pizza he's careful to brush the shards of glass on the table aside, dab napkins on the surface to clean any remains of that accident. He's explaining while he does this.] Apparently pizza delivery here isn't about the food. It's like... ordering for someone's services. They shove their bits into this hole in the box here, and expect us to take it as an introduction. Thought it had to do with the store, but turns out, it's tradition. They were just as surprised when I told them I didn't want the delivery guy, as I was about the whole thing when I first ordered it.

[Back on the couch, he opens the box with a bit of reverence.] And, here it is. [He hands her a couple of napkins, something he doesn't actually use when eating pizza, but he figures she'd appreciate not getting her hands greasy.] You're going to need these. You grab a slice and eat it.

I suppose one could make the argument that one can be delivered as well as the other, especially here. [ It's not unheard of, even in her time, for one to request their pleasures be catered to very specifically, and to find someone who can provide that; apparently, someone's thought to combine both sex and food in the offering.

She observes him quietly, her own hands clasped together while he attends to the matter of clearing that broken glass out of the way in order for them to eat without risk — normally, she would insist on helping, but since his healing means he's more likely to suffer a cut for a shorter length of time, she chooses to wait rather than run the risk of injuring herself. ]

Absolutely no part of that sounds appealing. [ She won't necessarily chide anyone else for their urges, but the mental image alone has her wrinkling up her nose in distaste, stifling a quiet laugh more from the absurdity of it than anything else, and when he presses the napkins into her hands she spreads them out on her lap before peering into the box. ]

Grab and eat. Sounds simple enough. [ Although, once she procures the slice in question, she turns it around, examining it from all sides. ] Is there a recommended end to start from?

Hey, I don't mind it. I just wish there was one service that didn't involve the two.

[He chuckles and shakes his head about how the idea did not sound appealing, and honestly he agreed. While he's sure that some people may enjoy eating some things out of people's bodies, Dante would rather keep it off the nether regions.]

The smaller one. Like this. [He's picking out the olives and setting them aside - why do they keep doing this even though he always makes sure to put a note with a lot of exclamation marks on it - and then takes the slice and takes a bite--

-- excuse him for a minute.]

You may be asking for too much here.

[ She smiles, but she's also observing the sight of him picking those olives off of his slice one at a time, enough to make her consider whether it was a mistake for them to be there in the first place, but she has never objected to the taste of them on their own so it's really a question of whether she'll enjoy them on this pizza as well.

She'll rotate her slice between her fingers to mimic his hold on it, propping it up from below in order to lift it to her mouth for a small bite. It's still warm, warm enough for the cheese on top to stretch out without breaking when she tries to pull it free and she voices a soft sound of surprise before finally needing to get her fingers involved to accomplish the task.

But she chews thoughtfully, looking over to where he sits, and after swallowing: ]

It's very good.

[He looks at her from the corner of his eye at first, a twitch of his lip when she has to deal with the string of cheese. It's something that Dante hadn't done before he got here, watch someone eat a pizza for the first time in their life, watch them react.

In itself, it's fun, even a little exciting. In there with her, it feels a little like sharing a part of his life.

He grins - because would you look at that, he ate the whole slice already - and suckles on the pad of his thumb where a bit of cheese grease lingered.] Right? And the best part is that you can order with anything you like. Some people even like it sweet.

[ She takes another smaller bite while he speaks, eating carefully — she'd often been reminded back home, by the people who know her best, to eat more on occasion, but typically she's never had the appetite for a large meal.

Now, though, the hunger in her spikes deep, perhaps as a result of what they've just done in terms of exerting themselves, and so she proceeds to enjoy a few more bites of the pizza, carefully wiping her mouth after each one, before bringing the half-eaten slice down to rest against one of the other napkins in her lap. ]

Sweet? I certainly believe what you're saying is true, but — what would you even put on this along those lines?

[He leans back as he picks another slice, relaxed, and now looking entirely sated. Good company, excellent sex, and pizza that still smells like a wood oven. Really? It's so much better than his usual life.]

This is only bread with things on shoved into an oven, so I guess all sorts of things. Seen a chocolate pizza once, for a dessert. But most of what people use is fruit. Although, some people will argue with you whether it deserves to be placed on the pizza or not.

[A shrug, and he takes another bite.] I don't really care. I like it with everything.

Well, most things. [He picks on a stray olive and flicks it towards the box's lid.]

Edited 2019-05-14 16:17 (UTC)

[ If she notices how quickly he polishes off one slice before moving on to the next, she won't remark on it beyond a thinner, briefer press of her lips to hide a smile. He had made mention of it being his favorite dish, so it's really no surprise that he's devouring it accordingly.

The subject of fruit on pizza is one that's met with a slightly more incredulous look as she tries to figure out whether or not he's having her on, but there's no indication of that in his expression and so she resumes eating, careful not to speak until her mouth isn't full of food. ]

With the exception of olives, I take it. [ He's making his feelings on that known very clearly. ]

[That’s probably the most proper way he’s seen anyone eat a pizza, and he knew his partner Trish was a classy lady despite her penchant for everything black leather. It’s endearing, really. Dante notices the incredulous look she gives him and arches his eyebrows with a grin.] That hard to believe, huh?

Nasty little things. Get everywhere. [He picks up another, but stops before putting it away.]

Do you like them?

[ It isn't a question she's ever had to lend too much thought to, but she hasn't actually elected to remove anything from her own slice yet and she finds that she doesn't have an objection to the olives there, even if it does add more salt than she might necessarily prefer. She's always had more of a sweet tooth when it comes to her culinary cravings; this is a woman who frequently partakes of dessert for breakfast.

She quirks her mouth in thought, finally shrugging one shoulder. ]

I suppose I'm not particularly attached to them one way or another. They're certainly not a requirement, and I wouldn't be devastated by the loss of them.

[Dante flicks that olive to the cardboard as well, satisfied with the answer.

Not that he wouldn't be satisfied - despite his pet peeve for olives, and his lack of understanding why anyone would like them, he wouldn't judge even if she said she liked them.

As long as she liked pizza.

He munches thoughtfully on another bite, amused narrowed eyes trained on her.] Hm, I think you'd like strawberry sundaes, too.

That's ice cream, is it not?

[ It's not the first instance she's heard of it, though the opportunity to try it for herself has never been present and it had been something of a novelty in London, only entering the wealthier circles within the last few years.

Perhaps if she'd attended more parties, she would've been presented with the chance, but she's always been less of a society woman and more of one who operates on the very fringes of it, only dipping in when absolutely necessary, or as a favor to a friend.

But she continues to eat, interest visible in her features. ]

Are they similarly easy to procure here?

That's about the gist of it.

[He tilts his head at the question.] Well, not unless you want them melted, but there are some places that make them. They were rare around your parts, huh?

[He takes another final bite, sucking on the pads of his fingers after the crumbs before wagging a decided finger.] I should take you, sometime. Call it a hunch you'll like it.

A newer indulgence, for some. Though my understanding is it was typically served in dishes, with a spoon. Are you familiar partaking of it that way?

[ It may take her a longer amount of time to fully consume her slice, and navigating her way around the crust may prove a bit awkward at first, but eventually she's wiping her fingertips clean on the napkin, clearing the grease from her hand. ]

Your instincts have served you well thus far. I'd imagine the same will hold true for that introduction, whenever it may be.

I am, yeah. But here’s a new concept for you. [Dante grins a bit wider, a little giddy that she seems interested in another of his own favorites.] These usually are served in a cup. The bigger the cup, the longer the spoon.

[He’s pulling two slices from the pie and hands the second to her.] Hey, I’m always up for a sundae. Maybe it’ll be sooner than you’re making it sound.

Exactly how much ice cream is one intended to eat in a cup of that size? [ There's only amusement in her voice, though, and maybe a bit of surprise in her expression — not only that he urges another slice into her hand, but that she takes it from him without lending it any deeper consideration, biting into the end shortly thereafter. ]

Perhaps it will be. [ She speaks upon swallowing, the smile on her mouth carrying over to her eyes. ] I find myself with almost too much time to spare, these days.

[He chuckles around his bite, feeling like he already made the sale but unable to make it even more exciting for her.] However much you want.

[There's a short pause at that admission, one where Dante looks at her thoughtfully while chewing on the pizza - delicious, delicious goodness.

He decides what the hell.] Let me know whenever you're bored, then. I'll take you there.

inbox for duplicity;

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject