@anctte sent: Maybe it was the sizzling, popping sounds, or the warm and hearty scent that gently drew him out of sleep, but in any case: by the time Raguna pulls himself out of bed, his kitchen is well and truly taken over. Bacon and a few links of sausage in one cast iron, a humble— but growing— stack of pancakes, (with some rougher looking ones at the bottom; but they get smoother along the way), and two eggs sat to the side, on the counter, ready to be cracked into their own pan at a moment's notice.
A dusting of flour frames many corners, coats a neatly-written recipe nestled amongst messy utensils, and draws little white stripes along her apron and the cuffs of pushed-up sleeves; but she managed to keep it out of her hair for the most part, having sacrificed her usual twin-braids for a long, single plait drawn to the back... hallmarks of hard work. He's taught her a lot, after all, but it doesn't quite come naturally.
No, Anette's poured her whole heart and as much effort to match into kicking off this special day— getting up even earlier than either of the morning-birds were used to— and that doesn't stop upon seeing the birthday boy slowly shuffling onto the scene. Instead, she just takes that as the signal to crack the eggs, getting the last part of his meal going.
"Hey there," she chimes, only a touch quieter than unusual; both to spare his newly-awakened ears, as much as for the fact that a trace of sleepiness still holds her voice captive. That's alright, though; the shy-tinged smile and weight of affection makes up for the dampened 'cheer.' "I wasn't sure if you'd want sausage or bacon, so. I made both. Everything's just about ready—" a mile a minute nonetheless, she has to make herself pause and really look at him. When she does, she thinks for a second, before setting the spatula she'd clung to aside and crossing the few steps between them, breaking the steady flow of work for a moment.
A much more important one, of course: where she can gently gather up both of his hands and, (with a bit of give on his behalf), lean onto her toes for a quick, but soft, kiss. The proper way to say 'good morning,' as well as—
it’s raguna’s goddamn birthday || [ accepting ]
Raguna is a heavy sleeper, it takes a decent amount of effort and noise to wake him from what was overall a very structured sleep schedule. Pass out when the moon was high and wake before the sun began to peek over the horizon. Certain individuals would consider it monotonous, but the Earthmate never once minded the ritual of his life. One thing after another. One day after the next as they marched forward towards a fulfilling future. There were however certain events that fell to the wayside. Was it intentional or simple neglect that the calendar on his wall was certain to be filled with the birthdates of the townsfolk and friends while leaving off his own?
Regardless, there was one person in town that had remembered and had made certain that he recognized it as well from the very start of what was a very special day. Or, presumably was this day. Raguna had mentioned to many who asked about the date that it was simply a ‘date’ picked, and like many things memories of his birthday had been cleaved from his mind and a dark emptiness left in its wake. One that was slowly but surely being filled and caressed with new events and new things to look forward to.
The farmer wakes, nose first, then ears-- someone was in his kitchen this much was clear. The ‘who’ was not, but then he had only a few guesses of individuals who would brazenly enter his home of their own volition, and far fewer that would be cooking up a large breakfast from the smell of it and how much was being put to use. He dresses himself roughly and quickly; button up shirt loosely draped over still waking muscles and trousers hitched enough that they wouldn’t drop in the middle of conversation leading to a far different discussion. Hair is still a mess. If a bird landed on it (or in his case a chicken) it would look not at all out of place, simply add one of the eggs being cracked into the pan.
The hair was differently styled than he was accustomed to seeing, but there was nobody else in town (or that would enter his home) with fiery blonde hair. His heart soars immediately, and ... seeing her in an apron was a very pleasing sight as well. It suited her in a way he wouldn’t have expected, another surprise on top of seeing the flight of breakfast items.
“.....hey. Good morning...” Comes the equally dazed response to her sweetly relaxing greeting, a sweep back from a waking state into one of dream and imagination. A tower of pancakes, the dotting of fresh fruit and savory meats cooked to a more than acceptable point. Raguna can already hear Anette apologizing for being messy or some sloppy work in a rushed town, and as if to circumvent it he speaks first to it all, before she can approach. “You did all this for me? Wow. Wow! It all looks amazing, Anette. But isn’t today a holiday, your day off? I would have thought you’d be catching up some sleep. You didn’t have to do it...” He continues before she can interrupt to the contrary, an expected response. “But I’m glad you did. You’re the person I always look forward to seeing the most. And today is no different, maybe even more so.”
Then the mail girl drapes against him, a gentle touch of one to another as hands are gripped and her rosy lips rise like the sun into the sky to meet his. Soft and quick. Not as much as he would want... but there were other things to be enjoyed here, things that would definitely burn if he were to hold onto these hands and hold the fiery haired maiden against him. With a certain level of reluctance the moment is broken and he follows her back into the kitchen, a wipe to his eyes as he continues waking, and, perhaps to handle a small wateriness to his eyes as well. Hmmm. Two eggs. Raguna smiles and quickly grabs more from the basket on the counter that had been gathered from the barn earlier in the previous week. It’s tight, but he’ll find room for another pan in this system.
“You still like your eggs sunny side up, don’t you?” A beat. Then a playfully furrowed brow at the likely chastising remark that followed. “What, you think I want to enjoy this meal by myself? We can finish this up so there’s plenty for both of us. So if I’m going to be celebrating then you’re doing it with me. C’mon, at least let me do this much... as a way of thanking you.”
