(no subject)

[herr_bookman]

Delectable scents of apple butter and nutmeg and chocolate waft out from the kitchen today, where Autor is hard at work. He has donned an apron and is crooning along with--of all people--Frank Sinatra.

Covered bowls litter the countertops and the fridge, but only for a moment; the industrious boy codes them all into his sylladex to preserve their contents. Having chopped and sautéed and boiled all day, the boy pulls more bowls out to prepare dough.

He's busy, but might be willing to take a break.

Comments

[cook_the_rude]

"It's not going to be the original," Hannibal says, "which I wore on some memorable occasions. But yes, I could, for mere aesthetics."

[herr_bookman]

"I didn't think you'd get sentimental about a tie, Dr. Lecter," Autor says, shrugging. He scrapes out a dish. "But you continue surprising me, so there's that."

[cook_the_rude]

Dr. Lecter stirs the tea in his teapot.

"Of course I do," he says. "If I didn't, I wouldn't have anything left to teach you."

[herr_bookman]

Autor smells that tea, and wants it. He chews on the inside of his cheek to keep from thinking about it. "What if I don't want to learn from you?"

[cook_the_rude]

"But you do, and you are learning," Hannibal says. He swirls his teapot around and peers into its depths.

[herr_bookman]

"No," Autor says, resting his soapy hands on the sink's edge. The word is weak, and not backed up by anything. He stares at his fingers.

"No," he repeats, a little stronger, raising his head. "I don't want to learn from you. I don't want to be anything like you."

[cook_the_rude]

"But you are," Hannibal says, almost softly. "I've seen it in you every time I talked to you."

[herr_bookman]

The boy clenches his fists against the sink, setting his teeth. "You can see it," he says. "That doesn't make it true. And this is why I need to avoid you."

Then he plunges his hands into the water, seeking out a dish. He has too many to wash.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal swirls his tea again, then takes a mug and a sieve and pours the tea into his mug. "You made me think of Darjeeling, so I'm taking a leaf out of your book. If you want to, you can have the second cup that's still in here. I'll see you soon."

He picks up the tea, his other hand on the drip stand, and wanders off through the scullery.

[herr_bookman]

Autor blinks at him as he leaves, furrowing his brow. "What?" he says, and repeats himself again. "Wait, what?"

Tea sounds lovely, but the boy is tempted to throw the teapot against the wall. He's shaken, and he shouldn't be. He continues washing his dishes in relative peace, running the conversation over and over in his mind, to find why Hannibal left it.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal, however, doesn't wait as instructed but gently closes the scullery door from the outside.-