O P E N P O S T .

[solosection]

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i am so sorry for the delay!

[neverwither]

( Going overboard is not really a concept Chloe is familiar with. Always keen to be the consummate hostess - even if she's in someone else's home, she has a basket full of ingredients to prepare for both drinks and nibbles. Far too much to be consumed at one little tasting party, no doubt, but then Elio can have a variety of leftovers.

As he seems content for her to have free rein, she's taken and run with it. It feels a little intrusive to be pottering around in his kitchen, although it's not like she's inspecting every inch of private spaces. There is a bustle of activity from her as she balances having several dishes on the go at once at different stages of completion; salmon rillettes, cheddar pecan crisps, spicy grilled shrimp, balsamic bruschetta. All chosen to complement the martinis to follow.

When she catches sight of him again, she's piping cream cheese into large green olives. She greets his presence with a smile. )

Oh, no, I'm fine. Really. I'm sure you're a perfectly good cook but this is my treat to you. Though you could keep an eye on the crisps to make sure they don't burn, if you don't mind?

( While it may no longer be her role to wait on or serve anyone, it remains something she takes pride and pleasure in. Everyone can use a little care. )

[solosection]

[ Something about her efficiency reminds him of Mafalda, their help back at his mother's summer house. Not because Chloe is here as his help, but because her hands move with the same experienced assuredness, the same no-nonsense speed. He likes watching her, it fills him with a sense of homeliness that he doesn't actually associate with his home most of the time. His home is a place where he sleeps or a place where he plays or a place where he longs, not much besides that. Mafalda, the same way as Chloe is now, would have prepared him a feast if he'd asked for a glass of water. ]

It feels like an unfair trade-off. You preparing all of this and me checking on the cheddar pecan crisps.

[ It's said with a slight laugh, not sarcastic or ironic, but just soft. She makes him feel kind of cared for and that's not really a feeling he's used to. Elio doesn't know how to handle it with the necessary appreciation, honestly. Even so, he walks over to the oven and checks on it once, the crisps still looking a bit under. Leaning against the counter, only the oven and the stove between them now, he turns his face towards her. ]

But care isn't a trade, right? I think that's the point.

[neverwither]

( Chloe just looks quietly bemused at the suggestion of this being somehow unfair. She offered to do this, and was the one to decide to go to the lengths she has. She wasn't ordered or asked. There was no implication that she should. She chose. Trivial as it may seem to others, it's anything but for her. )

You're exactly right - it isn't transactional. You don't have to earn anything nor do I expect anything.

( Chloe doesn't conduct tests. Doesn't play games to illicit reactions that can be studied. Or simply because. To be sincere in all things - perhaps overly so, at times - is how she conducts herself. Connections with others aren't bargaining chips or means of exploitation. They are what they are, and she is what she is. Who she is.

Partly to lighten her own thoughts, she gives him a more playful smile. )

Though I would claim that this is all utterly selfish on my part since I enjoy doing it.

( The last of the olives are plated, joining the other dishes in a magazine worthy arrangement of hors d'oeuvres. Sure enough, the cheddar pecan crisps join shortly after, once they've reached the optimal colour. )

Now, are we to start with a chocolate, fruit, tea or coffee based martini?