rozepoise:
WITHOUT AN OUNCE OF shame does she peer over a patron’s shoulder , eyes gliding across filled plate , a wrinkle of her nose before gaze is moved back to hayden. the way she leans back again , clearly not impressed but heavily pretending to be is perhaps the GREATEST indication that she’s willing to DRAG this out as long as she can. riling up hayden , pulling and pulling , anticipating how he would respond ( sometimes he would surprise her ! she liked that the most ). ❝ stew , hmm ? can’t say it looks appetizing but what would i know ? clearly you’re the expert here , right ? ❞ and it’s said with such an innocent tone one might think she TRULY was praising him. the playful wink send his way only solidifying it. as if it were a dance itself does the witch pull a chair from an unoccupied table && turn it so she may sit on it , one leg crossing over the other , hands find folds of dress and arrange it accordingly across her form.
❝ how could you ever think i would forget your name ? i simply think calling you inn keeper is more intimate and fitting ! it has a certain charm to it. and here i thought we we’re close , dear. it appears i was severely mistaken. ❞ sigh slips passed parted glossy cherry brims while hand comes to rest upon chest ( fingers curling around the shimmering stones that adorned neck ). ❝ i am hurt , hayden and frankly you have disappointed me. do with that what you will. ❞
“It’s hard for me to hide from you when you can see all my comings and goings right outside your window,” Hayden smiled genially. He’d seen a small twitch pass across her face. He’d read that as a challenge accepted, and rolled up his worn sleeves accordingly, exposing the ink of his forearms. The words and images there were in various degrees of fading, some nothing more than green-blue bruises beneath the skin, others intricate and colourful and looked fresh as yesterday.
He leant his broom against the wall with a knowing smile. Watch this.
“Of course we’re close. And as your close friend, it would be remiss of me not to offer you a bowl of this fine stew.” He took a wooden bowl from the serving table and filled it from the tureen with a practised hand, not taking his eyes from Azra’s face. A dare. “It might look unappetizing, and I’m sure it won’t measure up to the legendary status of your savoury treats, but of course it would be remiss of you to turn down your host’s generous offer.”
The murmuring of the patrons undulated like a wave. This was a battle of wills, and they had front row seats. Stew was now being forgotten all around the lounge room and this just frustrated Hayden all the more - food being wasted was not something he could abide. His patrons had been happily enjoying their meals until this distraction. He shoved the bowl towards Azra, sliding a silver spoon into the creamy dish. “Here. It’s on the house, Azra. Or would you prefer if I called you baker instead? Is that more intimate?”















