swan song

He grinned, exhaling sharply out of his nose. “Well, bath salts sound like a hell of a lot more fun than bath-matties.” he grinned, deliberately mispronouncing it now just to get a rise. “I don’t cook, I have people for that. Well, my parents do, I just take what comes my way.” he shrugged, “and it’s never rice.” he paused for a moment, trying to map out where exactly he was in relation to his home. “Do you live nearby? I’ll buy you a pizza or something. I’d hate to leave you thinking rice was a good food.”

Though a teacher of English, Mia had never thought of poets reading their work as sensual. She stood and considered it for a moment, and tilted her head; she supposed some work may be considered so, but not most. It truly depended on context. Trying to invoke a different conversation, Mia shook herself back to the present moment. “–.. do you have any Valentine’s plans?”

Eloise tilted her head in silence, observing the other. And Esme not looking back– lose in her thoughts– gave her a perfect opportunity to do so. It was clear the young redhead worried too much. Eloise, on the other hand, never did. Whenever a problem presented itself, she went straight to solving it, finding a way to do so. Waiting around had never been an option. “What email?” She heaved a sigh. “Staring at that screen won’t surely solve it. So yes– a drink. What’s your poison, my dear?”

She didn’t put much thought into the generosity of her new bartop mate, accepting the distraction from the blank screen in front of her face. A few words to tear her away and liquor to sooth her woes sounded like a promising combination in her book. “Whatever is strong,” she responded in a slight scoff, locking her screen and sliding it aside to keep her fingers idle.

“Well, I mean both,” Jake shrugged, but he was grinning anyway. The conversation had taken a somewhat ridiculous turn, though that was how most of his conversations went these days anyway. “Mmm, I don’t know, your angle is all wrong,” he laughed, pretending to strike a pose. “But if you ever need a photographer, you should hire your old buddy here.”

Jabbing an accusatory finger into Jake’s chest, she clicked her tongue. “I knew it. Don’t ask questions if I invite you to a large body of water soon.” Shifting her fingers into a new false frame, she snapped another air photo before letting her hands fall around her cup. “I’ll keep you in mind, I suppose. At least as an assistant, you got my order right on the first try,” she noted, raising her cup.

Nico just grinned at the look she gave him, holding his hands up as though defending himself. “Just telling the truth.” At her dramatics, he laughed, rolling his eyes playfully. “Apparently not enough fucking,” he replied. “Maybe I should get on Tinder, really try this beard out.”

“Apparently!” She chirped, leaning back in her seat. The difference in urgency in both of their respective sex lives was flabbergasting to Esme, quite honestly. “Maybe we’ll make a pact,” she joked, “you get your jollies worked out with a night of daddy issue Tinder passion, and I’ll pretend that I bought a shiny new rectal accessory. Deal?”

Valentine’s Day wasn’t her favorite holiday, but she didn’t dislike it either. Sure, her romantic life was a black hole of hookups and bad dates, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t root for other people. “Yeah, a Valentine’s Bash. That could work. With a little extra wine for Tala on the side.”

“We could dress up like Cupid, shoot people with plastic arrows...” she rattled off, the idea coming to life before her eyes. “Oh, of course the wine,” she scoffed, “it’s us, how could there not be wine? And vodka... and tequila if we’re feeling adventurous.”

“What? No, I–.. I never said that..” Mia trailed off, feeling slighlty foolish for having her stutter over her words. “You’re right, I haven’t, and.. I doubt I’d be a natural at something like that. I read. That’s a one person thing.”

A guilty smirk tugged at Esme’s lips, having successfully flustered the poor girl. She knew it wasn’t exactly fair to taunt her, but in her defense, she’s invited Esme’s opinion into things. “Find a writer then,” she shrugged, offering sincere advice this time. “Or a poet, someone to read their work to you. Even better, and very sensual.”

“You sound like my mum.” he rolled his eyes, a small smile playing about his face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, rice is okay if you’re, like, starving in the woods, I’m sure. I just prefer my food to actually taste of something. Or at least something I know. Not, what was it you said? Bath mats or something?”

Involuntarily mirroring the mannerisms, Esme rolled her eyes, softly shaking her head at his exaggeration. “You must not know how to cook rice, then. And it’s basmaaati,” she enunciated, extending each syllable to overcome her accent. “If you eat bath mats, you’ll turn into a zombie and start tearing off people’s faces. Oh, wait, no, that’s bath salts, never mind that.”

Mia stopped to chuckle to herself for a moment; imagine Mia Gray on Tinder. She could barely take a photo of herself, let alone post them for the world to see. “I–.. don’t think I’m.. that’s suitable, for me.” If it was a speed-dating event she’d either be too shy to contribute, or too drunk.

“You don’t think you’re suitable for yourself?” She taunted, biting back the guilt of putting the clearly discomforted girl on the spot. “I bet you’ve never even tried it, maybe you’ll be a natural. And then someone can buy your novelty wine for you instead.”

“So why don’t we do it?” She offered, gesturing with her hand to the room around them. “We have a little fun for everybody. Booze, good music, food. We could play pool on this old table I found at a garage sale.”

as pleasant of a concept it was, esme didn’t think tala had meant a full blown soiree with her proposal, but now that the idea was on the table, she was on board. a slow, devious grin spread over her cheeks, nodding eagerly as the image was painted for her. “yes,” she spoke, “very yes, we could have our own insane valentine’s bash!”

Arlo was skulking around the grocery store. He hadn’t a real need to be there, he was just wasting time between being at work and being at home. He was mid-daydream when a random question caught his attention. “Hmm?” he yipped for a moment before realising very suddenly what the other had said. “Oh, well, I don’t really eat rice but, I know what jasmine is, so I’d probably pick that.” he paused for a moment, “or, pick neither and get something that’s actually nice.”

he wasn’t skilled in cooking, so there weren’t many options at the supermarket which appealed to thor. most nights, he’d convince his mothers they wanted him to come over to dinner just as much as he wanted to. he stood, wondering if the different shapes of pasta were cooked differently he heard the comment and spun around. “i like the kind they give you when you order rice at a chinese place?”