*--hospitality [chase/sylverrr!]

[LENI ROSALIND WEIß]

Leni rarely felt exposed because she avoided situations like this most of the time, so the sensation felt truly odd and out of place. The corners of her mouth turned down slightly as she tried to work out exactly what she’d just said to him. What a strange admission to make to almost a complete stranger. She and Chase were colleagues, yes, but the amount of close personal information she’d just disclosed made it sound like something entirely different, as if they’d been friends for years instead of just spending a single afternoon together. Perhaps that meant it had been so long since she talked to someone meaningfully that she needed to say these things. Her eyes drifted to her companion. People like them, with their blood and their powers, demigod or unnatural, always had some sort of problem. It didn’t surprise her to see such desperate desire in him to his mother; had she never met hers, she knew she’d feel the same way. Leni’s problems were much different, more about the desire to shelter herself from the possibility of more pain in her life. She unconsciously knew she was only hurting herself by cutting herself off from the rest of the world, but her skewed logic told her it was the only way to avoid being deserted again.

Chase truly seemed like a sweet man, so sweet in fact that it seemed hard for her to believe. She couldn’t be good company, of course; she didn’t have any practice at it, and despite the fact she’d reached a certain level of comfort with him, she still felt far too awkward to think she was a “natural” at social communication. Her companion seemed much more versed in these matters. She truly did wish she could make everything she said sound like his poetry, smooth and intelligent, as a mature adult should be. The way he said things soothed her into a more relaxed state, and after everything he told her, she no longer sat rigidly. Instead, she leaned into the couch cushions, much more like she was enjoying herself, her eyes fixed on him with less discomfort than before.

But for the first time that afternoon, he said something that didn’t quite make sense to her. What reason in the world did he have for envying her? He had everything she lacked, everything she wanted in life, from good people skills to a family that loved him. She had a modest teaching job, a lonely little house, and a dog that sat lazily by the fire even now, his tail wagging incessantly at the presence of his newfound friend. The idea of Chase envying her in any way seemed beyond her comprehension. The fact almost certainly showed on her face, in the way her nose almost imperceptivity wrinkled and her brows drew together in confusion. He must think quite highly of her, were that the case, though she could not grasp quite how or why. Finally, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and blinked as he continued.

She actively had to restrain the impulse to jerk backward at the feel of his fingers on her chin. Instead, her eyes widened and she looked at him like an unsure child might. It had been a long time since anyone actually touched her, aside from a handshake. The sensation was certainly different, but his words were certainly that much more effective. He had to understand that forgiving one’s self was the hardest thing she could think of. She couldn’t take on the world; it was too big of a place for her to… But her thoughts seemed to stop abruptly and she swallowed. Odd, she thought. Now that it had happened, bumping into someone like him seemed the least of her problems. Finally, she chanced a small smile, one that just barely parted her thin lips to show off the tip of a row of white teeth. When he pulled away, she sat back once more, watching him have his moment with what she considered to be the best chocolate ever made.

“The last thing I would consider you is dangerous,” she said, attempting to keep her voice light hearted. Once she thought about it, according to the principles she’d adhered to since her youth, he was actually one of the most dangerous things that could walk into her life. He was something tangible that could be easily ripped away if she were to allow herself to become close to him. But she mentally shook off the thoughts. There was no harm in a simple afternoon chat. “And I will be happy to share my chocolate with you anytime.”

His offer, however, was unexpected. She turned to him, brow creased, searching his face for any hint that he might be kidding. He sounded as if they’d known each other forever, like they were best friends of some sort, instead of two colleagues who had accidentally run into each other at the park. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond. She opened her mouth, but all she managed was a small squeak of a sound. Mortified, she immediately cleared her throat and looked at her lap quickly before allowing her eyes to drift to him once more.

The idea of a hug floored her completely. She felt her mouth open just slightly. She glanced from his hands to him and back to his hands, blinking, clearly unsure as to how to deal with the situation. How long had it been since she’d hugged somebody? Not since her mother left her all those years ago. Her mind rebelled against the idea, actively pushing her away from his open arms, but the physical inclination to accept affection proved too strong. Slowly, timidly, she leaned in and accepted it, her cheek leaning against the flat of his collarbone. There she remained for a few moments, examining the feeling, before pulling back, determined not to make it awkward. The heat of the hug lingered on her body and her mind seemed not to be able to make heads nor tails of her conflicting emotions. She hadn’t spent time with somebody else for years, and here she was, talking personally and hugging all on the same day.

“Thank you,” she finally managed to say, gaze flickering humbly to his face as she spoke. “I am really the one who owes you gratitude. Your words are invaluable to me. And you are right, about all of it. Needless to say, it will take me a while to do what you say, but I believe it is important that I eventually learn to do so.” She took a deep breath, mouth twitching into a shy smile once more. “I am certain your mother is a wonderful woman, if you are any indication of what she may be like.” Her smile remained warm and sincere, to anybody’s surprise. “Now, are you sure I cannot offer you anything to eat? It will be coming up on dinnertime soon. I would not want you going hungry.”

[chase]

He was, needless to say, anything but dangerous.

At least, not the way he viewed himself for others. It was never an intention to be seen as one of that kind; he had always been careful with his interaction with people, careful in the sense of not being uncomfortable around with. He certainly could only think of only a few, rare moments, wherein his mere presence was both an annoyance and real inconvenience for the other party. They were, with no genuine surprise, at most particular places in the most random of times, though wholly unthinkably inevitable for him to expect, as they were the times during his two-year voyage around the globe. In the most valuable of times, the sense of whether or not someone was in need of another company was something he had been able to practice and deduce rather quickly, and in most cases, he only needed the power of speech to prevent any irrational actions, with the help of a witty, vivaciously cunning mind. But admittedly, in his life time, he had only succeeded in such few, rare moments - in Germany, for example. There, they valued trust and independence, but he had only learned so little and so few that he had not been able to realize that he was unwanted until, well, he was forced to realize so.

No, he was far from dangerous. Such few recounts of such moments were something of a hidden past he swore he would never tag along in any conversation. And so perhaps, did this thing for having a mysterious past concealed itself even further for him to cover into. Granted, in his nature only offered comfort and good company, and that hardly anything ever angered him, recounts in Prague, Ireland, Germany, Iraq – the times when he was angered, were the times he wanted to leave and forget the most. So it was understandable that the things he may have said would cause some deep-life-changing thoughts to be had, but it seemed that, even though he did learn things in the matter of philosophy, the art of forgiving one's self proved to be the hardest teaching to adapt to. He was nice, but he was also a man – as much as he wanted to prove it, every angelic face almost always has murky shadows lurking behind them, and he was no exception to this fact. To whatever indication was easy to reason – he not only inherited her smile, but also inherited her powers, and her traits.

His anger was a trait that was hardly ever started, easily extinguished, but generally hard to absorb.

He knew forgiving was the furthest and hardest thing for Leni to be asked to do – if he was in her shoes, he would have probably cracked long before he would have realized that everything that happened wasn't his fault. He saw no ray of luxury in her eyes or her story, no comfort or warmth, or a sensation of ever opening up to someone, to trust and lean on them without caution or doubt. In her most vulnerable hours, she was offered no shoulder to rest her head on, or somebody's heart to comfort her own, no hand to guide her through her years of hidden struggles and grieving. She lived in pure solitude for most of her life, recovering her shattered self with a high head and a will to prove her worth to the world, to her parents, one step at a time. He could just figure it his head, how difficult it must be to be around someone like him, unexpected and troublesome.

And then he realized how much of an idiot he was, saying things that must've sounded so forward to her.

He had begun on thinking of refraining from his offer, that perhaps his thoughts were much needed in the further future between them. And then, she was moving to him. Slowly, perhaps, but she was accepting all the same. He almost laughed at how shy she looked, as adorable as it looked. He felt her smooth of her face rest on his slightly less-damp skin, and wrapped his arms around her slightly, smiling as he did so. Silence hung over them for the few seconds, and then she was pulling back, away from such close proximity to him.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, and he blinked. Had she ever been kissed?

"I've been told by my dad, that I look like her when I do one of those smiles

[/I]," he told her, shrugging in thought. He wanted to ask, but even his conscious side was far into objecting from it. "Leni, I'm really sorry if what I've been telling you is making you uncomfortable. If it helps, you don't need to speak out if you are. You can just slap me[/i]," he suggested with slight humour, though admittedly he was being serious. He didn't want to seem to be the type who felt he needed to know everything. "And only if you insist. [/i] " He hadn't realized the time going so quickly, and for a moment, he wondered whether Abi would be surprised. He decided she wouldn't be, on account that he had taken Breeze out. He was glad he had - he couldn't have thought of a better way of spending a Sunday afternoon. "I am a terrible cook[/i]," he confessed with a playful tone of sadness in his voice, as he stood and offered his hand to her with a soft smile, "but a very reliable helper.[/i]"

[/blockquote]

[LENI ROSALIND WEIß]

She still felt strange after the hug, like she could still feel the pressure of his arms against her back. Human contact felt strange to Leni, foreign, as if she was a young teenager again, stepping onto American soil for the first time. She felt as scared then as she did now, though in a different way. That fear lasted longer, while this one disappeared after knotting in her stomach for the briefest of moments. He meant no harm by it, and he did her no harm with it. She expelled a breath and leaned her back against the sofa once more, working out the gesture in her mind. People were not often supportive; she didn’t often let them get close enough to be supportive. Her meeting with Chase was a fluke. The fact that he’d coaxed so much information, even a hug, out of her was incredible. Either she was feeling particularly sharing today or he had a gift with people. Considering his profession, she leaned toward the latter.

It would have been embarrassing, had he asked her the question he was thinking. She’d almost been kissed once or twice, but she’d always backed off before she could go through with it. Since high school, she’d avoided dating, because physical intimacy, even the most innocent gestures, made her feel like she was crossing some sort of bridge – and she didn’t know what was on the other side. Like everything else, it frightened her. But did she want to admit that to an acquaintance like Chase? No, it felt humiliating for a woman her age. She told him all about her past – or at least more than she’d told anybody else, though it was by no means the full story. But her romantic history, or lack thereof, was something she wanted to keep to herself, but she hadn’t the slightest notion that he would ask in the first place.

Her hands folded in her lap nearly of their own accord and her eyes slid to their corners to regard him. She didn’t expect him to be affected by the small exchange of comfort, but he probably had daily contact with other people. Chase seemed generally normal when it came to social interaction, unlike Leni who usually felt about ready to die of embarrassment or discomfort at any moment. Right now, despite her mind’s odd reaction to the embrace, she felt more content than usual. In her head, she toyed with the idea of actually having somebody to comfort her occasionally. It sounded nice, even theoretically. She wondered if they both intended on being friends, or whether this meeting was only dumb luck not to be repeated. Secretly, she hoped it would be. Establishing a level of comfort with someone else gave her an unfamiliar feeling of value.

Chase’s words surprised her. Her eyes widened slightly and she gazed at him, unable to restrain a short, buoyant laugh at the very notion. Slapping him? After he’d been so kind and understanding to her? Why, she wouldn’t think of it! She couldn’t! No, no, she could only chuckle about the fact that he would even consider the idea. Still smiling ever gently, she shook her head, dark hair bouncing slightly, one section falling into her face and settling on her white cheek.

“I would not consider anything of the sort, Sir Chase,” she assured him, even going so far as to playfully wag her finger as if scolding him. “The very idea is downright absurd! You need not worry about such things. I may have the occasional temper, but I am not a violent woman.”

She pushed her hair from her face with a sweep of her thin, spindly hand. Her eyes fixed on him softly; her stare was hardly a hard one unless she was teaching, and even then, it was only occasionally. Usually, her gaze only lingered for a moment or two before she dropped it again, but today, she let it loiter on her companion, her smile remaining.

“I do insist,” she chided, watching as he rose to his feet and accepting his hand when he offered it. Quickly, she got to her feet as well. “I happen to be a decent cook. But I would love assistance, so it is good to hear you can take instructions.”

Leni grinned over her shoulder at him as she headed into the kitchen. It felt surprisingly good to let loose and joke once in a while. Her chest was light and unburdened for the moment, her mind surprisingly capable of letting go of the potential fear of the repercussions of this meeting. She always focused on “what ifs,” but she felt so pleased with the way this afternoon made her feel that she didn’t have time to focus on all the possible catastrophic outcomes – because, inevitably, a mind like Leni’s always dug up the worst case scenario.

“How do you feel about wiener schnitzel?” She asked absently as she opened the fridge and pulled some pork cutlets from inside. “Maybe some green vegetables… And some ice cream for dessert, ja? Unless you have some other ideas for that, since you seem to know your way around sweets quite well.”

Again, she teased. Pleased, she bit her bottom lip as she set a few of the cutlets on the cutting board. After removing a mallet from one of her drawers, she turned to him and placed it in his hand.

“I trust you can pound meat, ja? I imagine you are stronger than I am, so you will probably be better at it, if you would do the honors.”

In the meantime, there was plenty of prep left for her to do.

[chase]

At least it was something far from the stove, far from his incapable hands.

A lingering smile curved his lips, a result from his earlier situation. He had laughed quietly as she had taken his hand, feeling quite awkward with her referring to him like that. It sounded far weirder than when his students would say it, or any student really. Nevertheless, he was glad that she was finally feeling comfortable around him, still not quite believing that he was able to walk through the sturdy wall of Leni's comfort zone. To be quite honest, he never expected to get this far with her, or expected, at all, any sort of softened gesture from her usual demeanor. Perhaps he really was needed in the school, and although he always fancied the idea of teaching while travelling, he didn't mind so much the idea of staying for perhaps, a few more months, or even years. He did have all the time in the world to meet more of the odd, foreign, interesting people around the world.

This, helping to prepare a meal with a German, was surely something of a jump start.

He smiled as she grinned, grinned at him, following her as she made alive the kitchen once more. That moment, he thought to tell her that he really was terrible with directions, that it was hardly safe for him to be relied on a job in area of the kitchen. He never could quite figure that out -- he had always had an easy time in Chem, but when it came to the culinary arts, everything would just inevitably end in a boom. The thought still lingered in his mind, nudging at him, tempting for him to speak it out. Even as it sounded doubtful, he was sure she had had gotten through some physical contact, like kissing. Or being caressed on the cheek, or hugged in some form of comfort as she was in need of assurance. So, for the sake of respecting her privacy, he would not ask. He wouldn't. Would he?

Almost doubling over at the name of the dish they were to prepare for, he stifled a laugh as he placed a hand on the counter, eyes on her as she woke the kitchen back to life. He didn't mind the refrained Leni, to be honest, but this side of Leni was, undoubtedly, much preferred in circumstances like this. She also didn't seem to keep her German traits from being held inside anymore, what with her accent and all. At least she had promised that he would not be beaten by a stick, that he was counting on her. Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to meet a different Leni, someone who had her parents supporting her all the way, helping her through her trauma, giving her the comfort and attention she much deserved. He wondered what it would be like if she was much more open, much more willing to share her personal thoughts - much more willing to let go of all the negativity weighing her down.

It would certainly be infinitely a blessing if she smiled sincerely more often.

"If this will keep my incapable hands away from the stove, then yes, I would be happy to," he humoured with deep sincerity as he clutched on the object she placed on his hands, furrowing his brows slightly as he took a brief glance on it. Apparently, it was for pounding. "And well, I don't mean to brag," he continued on, following along her words that had been turned on his delights on sweets, "but I am pretty close on getting diabetes. Or so Abi says, anyway. Either way, I'm sure it says a lot." And he was sure of it, as he laughed. It really was a wonder how he could've coped without having anything close to extreme-sweetness for that long of a time, but as fate would have it, he wasn't meant to stop. Just by the cookies, he was sure of it.

"Hey

[/i]," he said lightly with a teasing tone, loosening his grip on the object in his hand, "do you mind if I dash off to the bathroom for a moment? I don't feel very presentable or decent in this shirt." With a questioning smile, he finished, "I won't be long, I promise."

[/blockquote]

[LENI ROSALIND WEIß]

Leni felt it strange how nice it was to have company in her house, let alone the kitchen. She saw the kitchen as her sanctuary, the place she went when everywhere else felt like a trap, as if the walls closed in around her. She felt like that a lot, as little as she wanted to admit. Even in her living room sometimes, the space around her became small and she felt like she had to escape in order to breathe. A strange compulsion to be sure, but not one she put much effort into shaking. More important things came first, like learning how to speak to people without immediately looking for the nearest exit. Perhaps Chase could help her with that. It seemed he’d already begun to. Unless he was only acting like he enjoyed her company as not to insult her, she imagined this might not be the last dinner she invited him over for. As she removed various ingredients from her cupboard, she smiled to herself. It sounded surprisingly nice.

“If you are that much of a hazard, I will be sure to stand between you and the oven at all times,” she teased right back, flicking her hair back over her shoulder by instinct. Afterward, she blinked, almost confused by the unmistakably happy action, but shrugged it off moments later. They’d stepped into a bit of playful banter, she realized, and to her surprise, it felt almost exciting to interact with somebody this way. She was by no means entirely relaxed, as she was when by herself in her kitchen, but she felt far more comfortable than she would have imagined back when they bumped into each other in the park.

She glanced at him over her shoulder as she began to arrange the ingredients on the opposite counter. A soft chuckle escaped under her breath at the way he looked at the object she’d given him. Frankly, no man she’d known knew how to cook particularly well, so it came as no surprise, but she found it oddly endearing. She raised an eyebrow as he continued talking, barely restraining another laugh before he mentioned a name. It was as if he thought she knew whom he was talking about, or perhaps he was simply speaking off-handedly. It never occurred to her to tie Miss Summers, the physics teacher, to the nickname.

“Is Abi your girlfriend?” She asked lightly, curiously. If he did have a significant other, Leni had to wonder if it was even okay for him to be here with her, but she knew she couldn’t jump to conclusions, so she didn’t say anything else on the matter and simply left the question open for him to answer, if he so chose. “Regardless, you look like you take care of yourself otherwise, but I suppose I do not know your habits – or just how many sweets you consume each day.”

Her tone made it rather clear that she felt a little more easygoing than she had when they’d walked in the house. The blaze in the fireplace gave the place warmth and light, as did the soothing feeling of the tea in her stomach. The beverage, along with the sugar in the chocolate and cookies, gave her a little more life, too, which certainly showed in her face. She turned to look at him when he spoke of the bathroom and the shirt, taking a moment to process the situation before giving him a small smile.

“Take your time,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively. “Do you think I will be angry or something if you take more than five minutes?” She shook her head, surprised to find that this actually amused her. “I promise I can handle myself. Go on! Down the hall to your right.”

Granted, Leni was left wondering what, exactly, he planned to do with his shirt to improve his appearance, but clearly he had a plan. So instead of worrying over it, she contented herself with cracking eggs into a small glass bowl. She’d made this dish for herself so many times that she knew it by heart; so well, in fact, that she didn’t even have to think about it, though it crossed her mind that, this time, she wouldn’t have leftovers for lunch.

Somehow, she didn’t have a problem with that one bit.