#desuetmort

“Ya still got dem heavy gloves on in dis kinda heat, chère?” Remy emerged from the door with some ice water and something folded up in his other hand.

He leaned against one of the wooden pillars of the veranda, eyes locked on the aforementioned accessories, “Exposure ther’py o’ whateva de Professor be callin’ it. It take a while sometimes…brought ya a lil somet’in so ya don’ have ta roast in da sun.”

Remy extended his hand out to her, shaking it a bit to unfurl what was now revealed to be a pair of black gloves. They were much thinner than the ones A-Yeong was currently wearing, but would still do the trick.

There he sat in the clothes of a common man perched on a chair just outside a humble little hole in the wall cafe. Tea cup lowers from his lips as he rises his head.

A-Yeong didn’t get to visit often. There was always something waiting for her back in Soul Society; another responsibility, another person relying on her, another reason the weekend could have been taken away before it ever began. The witch understood, of course. She would never ask A-Yeong to neglect the people who depended on her, but understanding never made the distance feel any smaller. Maybe that was why she had been humming under her breath as she stirred the pot, happiness bubbling quietly in her chest alongside dinner. A whole weekend together felt almost indulgent. Two mornings to wake beside her, two evenings without watching the hours disappear too quickly, and all the quiet moments between that Gabriella treasured far more than any grand gesture.

“Just enough for two,” she murmured, tasting the sauce from the spoon before adding a little more seasoning. Her eyes flicked toward the table again, then toward the door, bright with anticipation. “Perfect.” The familiar shift of spiritual pressure reached her before the sound at the door did. Gabriella went still for only a heartbeat before her smile widened, soft and helplessly fond. She lowered the spoon, wiping her hands quickly against the dish towel as she hurried from the stove.

By the time she reached the door, she was already opening it, warmth spilling from the apartment behind her as the witch looked up at their love, the one she had been waiting all afternoon to see. “You’re here.”

@desuetmort asked: ' hey kid , it's not safe to be here - there is a hollow nearby ' protective a-yeong mode in action

THE HUMAN world was busier when not directly threatened. She hadn't set foot on this earth without aulterior motives. - she never had time or stability to step out from the white dunes. This would be a break from her own endeavors.

The gigai she was given long ago was outdated at least fifty years. (Perhaps humans are...tolerant) It just looked younger in a way, only subtly; shorter hair, slimmer frame, outdated clothes it still wore. The "ordement' in her hair was absent. Suppose it would do. She'd ignore the looks. But one stuck out. & eyes met.

A gloved hand languidly shuffles his shaggy locks from the sand stuck in his scalp after he naps in it - or a habitual tick. Her voice picked his attention & he grunts in response.

"I'm sorrryyy!" Renji wailed as he watched A-yeong skillfully extinguish the fire. He was too ashamed to admit that his attempt to use kido to light a fire had ended badly... and therefore ended up in his predicament so he just nodded furiously.