the baffled king composing hallelujah
Ronin cackles like a child, and he does fuck off, but not far. Just far enough to pour himself some more coffee and to watch as she takes over pancake flipping. Is he judging her over the rim of his coffee mug? Nooooo. No. That doesn't sound like Ronin at all. "Food and working shirtless, mm? Well it is Torchline in Longheat I suppose. And I'm repairing the Halenani. It only feels right to be half naked."
Oh but then it's time to flip, and Ronin waits with baited breath to see how Maeve is going to do. It's a good thing he's just lowered his mug from his lips, too, because at the spectacular failure, the madame would have been sprayed with coffee. "Oh wow," Ronin drawls, his gaze still on the pancake circle on the ceiling. He's not looking at the mess on the stove. Not yet.
"That one is yours to eat," he informs her, nudging her with his hip right back to get her out of the way. "Well I consider myself told. You can certainly murder a pancake."
Oh but then it's time to flip, and Ronin waits with baited breath to see how Maeve is going to do. It's a good thing he's just lowered his mug from his lips, too, because at the spectacular failure, the madame would have been sprayed with coffee. "Oh wow," Ronin drawls, his gaze still on the pancake circle on the ceiling. He's not looking at the mess on the stove. Not yet.
"That one is yours to eat," he informs her, nudging her with his hip right back to get her out of the way. "Well I consider myself told. You can certainly murder a pancake."
