CLOSED STARTER . @svpine / leda otero
LOCATION . leda & perdita's house
Between the two of them, there was an agreement that they would be much better off if Perdita was the one who cooked. If for no reason other than the fact that she wasn't the type to burn the house down, unlike some people. Cooking wasn't too dissimilar to her art, really: chopping vegetables had similar repetitive hand motions, and ingredients were just materials for an end result. At least, that was the way she seemed to look at it. Whether or not her meals were all that good was another matter, but Leda never seemed to mind. And their kitchen was proudly fire-free.
By now, Leda could probably tell a lot about the sort of mood Perdita was in based on what she was cooking, and how she was cooking it. If she was stressed, it was always something that required a lot of physicality - slicing, chopping, mashing, kneading, dicing. Her peaceful moods brought out the more experimental dinners, the sorts of things people considered difficult because they didn't know how to properly time their ingredients or heat sauce in a pan (although, often Perdida couldn't get them quite right herself, but at least she was in the mood to try). Those were the days where she'd get her sister to read her a recipe book out loud, word for word, step by step. And her depression bred simplicity, as it did for so many people, and they'd spend weeks eating like they used to in the seclusion of their mountain.
Something made her snap back to reality, in the middle of cutting a butternut squash. The undeniable sound of footsteps and shuffling movement somewhere to the left, but still along the counter.
"Is the kitchen counter a chair now, Leda? You should've told me sooner,"
