âââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
xxlocation: apartmentxxxxxxxxxxoutfit: here
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
xxx"and these secrets all that we've got so far,
xxxthe demons in the dark, lie again.
xxxplay pretend like it never ends
xxxthis way no one has to know"
Willow grinned to herself and kept sipping her drink as Max raided her cupboards, clearly having found some meal inspiration. She seemed a little too animated for somebody that was mourning as much as she had been earlier, giving away that she was a little tipsy. But at least she was animated, and Willow felt like she didn't have to tiptoe around her. She got to her feet and put down her drink as Max started asking about garlic and bread, as well as meat.
"Chicken breasts in the fridge. And we don't have garlic spread, but we do have..." She reached around Max, grabbing a bulb of garlic from the worktop. "Actual fresh garlic and parsley. i can make proper garlic butter. Herbs are the only plants I can keep alive," she added, peeling the garlic and taking two cloves of it. She scooped some butter out of the butter dish and into a bowl, before starting to chop the garlic.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this with anyone. Even her friends. Most of her friends were villains, which meant they usually just texted each other about how exhausted they were, and had occasional movie and pizza nights. She couldn't remember the last person she'd actually cooked with. Probably her mother. And for a moment, she was transported back to her sixteen year old self. In the midst of a mood swing and angry at the entire world, her mother had made her help cook dinner. And they'd talked as they cooked. They'd laughed and danced around the kitchen together. She could still smell her mother's perfume.
She forced herself to shake herself out of the memory and started chopping the second clove of garlic. She scraped it into the butter, and pulled some leaves from the garlic plant on her window. Anger was surging in her chest, anger at the heroes, anger at the system that had failed her. She wanted to see them burn.
"Chicken breasts in the fridge. And we don't have garlic spread, but we do have..." She reached around Max, grabbing a bulb of garlic from the worktop. "Actual fresh garlic and parsley. i can make proper garlic butter. Herbs are the only plants I can keep alive," she added, peeling the garlic and taking two cloves of it. She scooped some butter out of the butter dish and into a bowl, before starting to chop the garlic.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd done this with anyone. Even her friends. Most of her friends were villains, which meant they usually just texted each other about how exhausted they were, and had occasional movie and pizza nights. She couldn't remember the last person she'd actually cooked with. Probably her mother. And for a moment, she was transported back to her sixteen year old self. In the midst of a mood swing and angry at the entire world, her mother had made her help cook dinner. And they'd talked as they cooked. They'd laughed and danced around the kitchen together. She could still smell her mother's perfume.
She forced herself to shake herself out of the memory and started chopping the second clove of garlic. She scraped it into the butter, and pulled some leaves from the garlic plant on her window. Anger was surging in her chest, anger at the heroes, anger at the system that had failed her. She wanted to see them burn.