[ And of course, Wyatt comes in the way he always does; bare-chested, skin golden from the sun, hair windswept and tangled up with twigs and leaves. His cut-off jeans have fresh tears and fraying around the edges, and there's the occasional new mud stain. Wyatt's arms, chest and shoulders have some of that too, and he smells like the forest he's just been running in. He rubs the back of his dusty hand over his forehead, while he stares around the kitchen in disbelief.
Also, in worry. Because what the fuck has he forgotten? ]
Uh, are we expecting someone? [ Because the roasting meat smells fucking great, but he doesn't know who ordered the vegetables or weird pastry thing. Vex never cooks like this. In fact, Vex never fucking cooks. ] Am I late?
[ He's about to say that he'll go and change, but then he catches sight of Vex's clothes beneath his apron. And the lack of goatee on his face. And his hair. What the shit? He frowns. ]
Me me me
Also, in worry. Because what the fuck has he forgotten? ]
Uh, are we expecting someone? [ Because the roasting meat smells fucking great, but he doesn't know who ordered the vegetables or weird pastry thing. Vex never cooks like this. In fact, Vex never fucking cooks. ] Am I late?
[ He's about to say that he'll go and change, but then he catches sight of Vex's clothes beneath his apron. And the lack of goatee on his face. And his hair. What the shit? He frowns. ]
Vex, what the hell are you wearing?