Maea
The worst of all blessings
It was a disaster. Utter, complete disaster. A haze of smoke enveloped the interior of the Guardian's treehouse, and a sharp smell of something burning was rapidly overtaking the fragrance of something cooking. Maea was a dervish tearing from stove to sink with a billowing pot in hand, heedless of the scalding substance that leaked from it along the way. It didn't matter if the floor was dirty - dinner was ruined anyway, the pantry empty, and all desire to eat gone.
With her mouth turned down in a look of dismay, Maea stared into the charred remnants of what should have been venison stew. It resembled solidified lava at this point, and after prodding the contents with the spoon concluded that it felt like rock, too. Damn. For someone with mastery over fire it shouldn't be possible to mess up this badly - yet she couldn't even excuse herself with being busy. Truth was, she was just distracted. Unfocused, and prone to drifting off in thought in the middle of a chore. The trail of destruction left in her wake could have been amusing, if it wasn't so embarrassing.
Muttering curses worthy of a pirate as she went to open up some windows, a glance outside did little to improve her mood. A storm had swept past the coast during the night and left a thick fog in its wake, thick as peasoup and lingering despite the heat. While she didn't normally mind warm temperatures, the damp was nasty, layering everything in a sticky film and frizzing up her hair.
All in all, the day was going terribly. And in ten minutes Liam would be arriving to eat a dinner that was ruined, in a house that smelled like a bonfire, with a woman who was this close to tying her tail in a knot. And the worst part was that while she absolutely could blame it on someone... that wouldn't make the food edible again.
Scrubbing her palms over the face to reset, she allowed herself one long, deep breath, let out one growl of frustration - then she was on the move again, whisking a cloak off the peg before she headed for the door. If she couldn't cook then she'd just have to buy the food - as long as they ate it was all the same where it came from, right? Right. Ans so she flung open the door and stormed out, noticing too late that a very tall and unreasonably handsome looking someone was blocking the entrance - and plowed straight into him, only to bounce right back with a smarting nose and absolutely no dignity left.
With her mouth turned down in a look of dismay, Maea stared into the charred remnants of what should have been venison stew. It resembled solidified lava at this point, and after prodding the contents with the spoon concluded that it felt like rock, too. Damn. For someone with mastery over fire it shouldn't be possible to mess up this badly - yet she couldn't even excuse herself with being busy. Truth was, she was just distracted. Unfocused, and prone to drifting off in thought in the middle of a chore. The trail of destruction left in her wake could have been amusing, if it wasn't so embarrassing.
Muttering curses worthy of a pirate as she went to open up some windows, a glance outside did little to improve her mood. A storm had swept past the coast during the night and left a thick fog in its wake, thick as peasoup and lingering despite the heat. While she didn't normally mind warm temperatures, the damp was nasty, layering everything in a sticky film and frizzing up her hair.
All in all, the day was going terribly. And in ten minutes Liam would be arriving to eat a dinner that was ruined, in a house that smelled like a bonfire, with a woman who was this close to tying her tail in a knot. And the worst part was that while she absolutely could blame it on someone... that wouldn't make the food edible again.
Scrubbing her palms over the face to reset, she allowed herself one long, deep breath, let out one growl of frustration - then she was on the move again, whisking a cloak off the peg before she headed for the door. If she couldn't cook then she'd just have to buy the food - as long as they ate it was all the same where it came from, right? Right. Ans so she flung open the door and stormed out, noticing too late that a very tall and unreasonably handsome looking someone was blocking the entrance - and plowed straight into him, only to bounce right back with a smarting nose and absolutely no dignity left.
The most beautiful of curses
Base by Skylark
