tadity - Last Saturday at 11:39 PM and in the morning it's back to mister hunter and miss carter and the only pressing question is who fixes the tea and who suffers not having it the way they want
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:39 PM omg well... peggy would very much like to stay in bed for once.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:40 PM ....see and that puts rip in a terrible position because if he doesn't put sugar in her tea, does that mean he's acknowleding too much? because truth be told--he rather does enjoy having her there
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM you know your relationship is kinda screwy when the question of whether or not you put sugar in your lovers tea is actually the hardest one.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM LOL yeah pretty much is she hungry? should he summon some of those poptarts she keeps on hand?
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM uhm yes.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM granted, he's not got a singing toaster to heat them in.
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:43 PM he might be trying to tease her about it but she just nods because dammit she likes pop tarts
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:43 PM ....so poptarts and a toaster then
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:44 PM and informs him that it's okay, she'll eat them untoasted too. (very romantic morning after)
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:44 PM and he just comments that no, they were barely edible heated up
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:45 PM and while ordinarily she would gleefully rise to the occasion this time all she does is flip him the v-sign, roll over, and pull his pillow against her chest while she pretends to ignore him and go back to sleep.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:47 PM well. this is a new side to her, isn't it? and yet as Rip watches her laze, there's a grin on his face. new, but not unwelcome. so he'll be ignored and go about his business, making tea and poptarts and toast for himself, thank you--and somewhere along the way, just on coincidence, begin to hum "God Save the Queen."
completely at random, of course.
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:49 PM and silently she kinda enjoys it. the humming, at least, if not the anthem. god she probably stays in bed right up until she's told she can't get pop tart crumbs in it so if she wants her breakfast she'd better get up.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:51 PM okay but what a perfect opportunity to grab his shirt
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:51 PM .....
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:51 PM and tug it on in lieu of getting fully dressed
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:52 PM yep. she's not getting back into her clothes until after she showers. so his shirt will do in the meantime. i was going to say she pulls it on whole he's not looking but i actually think i prefer the thought of him standing there, plates in hand, while she sits up in his bed and very efficiently dons his shirt.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:54 PM and certainly he wouldn't protest it. he would watch, absolutely, transfixed and forgetful of just why he's ushered her up as she puts it on.
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:56 PM and! since she's up anyway... she grabs a pop tart off the plate as she walks by to intercede and pour her own tea now that it's brewed.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:58 PM all of which is a perfect reminder that, oh right, he shouldn't just stand there staring. so off to the sitting area he goes.
February 25, 2018 novelties - Last Sunday at 12:00 AM and she follows, tea in one hand while the pop tart, missing one bite, balances on the rim. while the other hand (the healing one) prods gingerly at the marks he's left on her skin just underneath the line of his shirt's collar. - it's an awkward silence.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:02 AM he catches sight of her when he turns, naturally, sees where her hand lies. things haven't gotten quite so awkward for him just yet--after all, of the pair of them, he's likely more used to such mornings after.
still. he nods towards her efforts. nothing too sore, i hope?
novelties - Last Sunday at 12:04 AM and maybe it's just a little too indicative of how very much she's not used to such mornings after when she clings to a thin guard of deflection : do you?
hope, that is.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:08 AM one way or the other, it's not the answer he was expecting. the surprise shows on his face--but perhaps it shouldn't. he's seen those rare moments of vulnerability from peggy a few times now. when he thinks it through, he'll understand that it's in her nature to recoil when she feels exposed.
it does, however, make his answer an easy one.
actually, yes. i rather enjoyed last night. and this morning, those awkward touches aside. he sits on the couch, leaving her the choice of her normal chair or something closer should she choose.
novelties - Last Sunday at 12:13 AM her first inclination is to play the whole thing off as nothing unusual. yes, she stayed longer than anticipated. yes, she's now sinking (rather purposefully) into her chair. but it can't have been all that different from any other spirited wednesday night. except that she still can't recall the exact number of lovely wreckages he'd driven her to, last night. except she can recall clinging to him afterwards and whispering soft affection against his warm skin while they shared their sticky afterglow.
if i'm sore, she allows, then it's not such a terrible sort of sore.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:19 AM duly noted.
she does not yield lightly; rip undestands this about peggy, has nearly from the start of their interactions. she is a woman of expectation and demand, and if one will not yield when she believes they should, then she will stubbornly stand her ground until they do. so that allowance, however small it may seem, stands telling. rip glances down towards his cup of tea (already sugared, naturally), and for a brief moment betrays a faint smile at her admission.
not so terrible is, it would seem, rather good enough.
what isn't, he decides, is his toast as it stands: buttery, yes, but not enough. after a moment he stands up, fetches something from the closet--a small familiar filled with brown spread, a dab of which he starts to spread onto his toast. novelties - Last Sunday at 12:27 AM she isn't all that sore anyway. pleasantly tuckered, rather, despite spending the rest of the night sleeping in a tangle with him. the nearest she comes to sore is a the lingering ache in her muscles - no doubt from being wrapped and stretched across him at such an unconventional angle.
but the question fades away when she watches him get up and go and come back. she nibbles in her pop tart the whole while. and she she recognizes the squat bottle. it's her turn to smile.
your a marmite person.
there are only three kinds of people on the entire universe, she's certain of it. marmite people, vegemite people, and the poor souls who can settle for neither.
learning he's one of the former is like another slippers moment.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:36 AM he hadn't been thinking much of it, of course. only that he's rather hungry this morning--to be expected, given the vigors of the night before. if anything he might argue his hand a touch stiff, but it's a complaint that won't get voiced; for rip, the cost is a minor one indeed given all that had led up to it, more of a pleasant reminder than anything he might call annoying.
but marmite seems just the right thing to add to his toast; salty, familiar, one of so many new discoveries made after he'd been escorted to mary xavier's house. and quintessentially british, which would well explain the way peggy smiles rather than scoffs at the yeasty stuff.
indeed so. evidenced a moment later by the bite he takes of his toast. funny, though--he never would have known of it if not for time travel. assuming he survived past childhood (and rip generally doesn't), he would've been over forty before the first factory opened up.
another way in which he's the truer relic of the two of them, perhaps.
novelties - Last Sunday at 6:30 AM in the time it's taken then both to settle and situate themselves, peggy has all but polished off one whole pop tart. she chases the crumbs down on the plate, dabbing a licked finger help catch every last one. there is (of course) a whole second pastry waiting for her, nudged to the side, but she's in no rush to break it apart and eat it quite as voraciously as the first. instead she focuses on the cuppa -- scooting forward in her chair with a bit of obvious and decadent pandiculation. her arms reach over her head; her back stretches. somewhere deep in her skeleton there's a gratifying little pop. so loosened, she grabs at the mug and seems to down almost half of it in one steady go.
may i? she lifts a finger off the ceramic so as to point out the piece of toast in his hand. she wants a bite -- already greedily eyeing his breakfast even before she finishes hers. but maybe greed is just an excuse to lean further forward until she's nearly touching him with a bare knee.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:33 PM well; by his judgment, something seems to have settled within peggy. perhaps the first pangs of hunger eased, or the way she stretches out have loosed tense nerves. at least to rip's estimation, the silence isn't quite so tense by the point she grabs at her tea; honestly, part of him considers picking up a book, as is his normal morning routine, reading a chapter or two while they sit and eat (and naturally, expecting peggy would perhaps do the same--he's got a number of them floating around the room).
seems she's got her own ideas though. just as he's about to break the stillness she beats him to it, motioning to his toast with a request for a taste. there's a moment of pause, borning of old instincts refreshed thanks to Wonderland's meddling; sharing food had become an unthinkable notion then, but times have changed. he has, to enough degree to recognize his own manner of ridiculousness.
as you'd like. he holds out the bit of toast, while at the same moment eyeing the half of her breakfast that remains. you know, there's plenty of spread left. it might not be so bad on the tart you've got.
weirder things have been mixed together, he's sure.
novelties - Last Sunday at 1:00 PM her nose crinkles in disgust. not over the toast - that she rather enjoys, tearing a bite off and chewing before she can speak. rather she doesn't much like the thought of mingling her new-fangled breakfast food with such a staid old staple.
peggy helps herself to a second (smaller) nibble before she offers back his slice and spread.
don't be ridiculous.
tadity - Last Sunday at 1:04 PM her expression makes clear her opinion on the idea before peggy offers up verbal retort, and equally, gives rip scant seconds to decide just what counter he might offer her critique. a few sips of tea first--he's thirsty as well as hungry--and he glances to peggy with obvious amusement as he protests her point.
i'm not. it's not like i'm suggesting you lather the thing with it. he motions to "the thing" and "it" respectively with a hand upon each mention. just use enough to enhance the flavor of the chocolate. a blend of salty and sweet.
novelties - Last Sunday at 1:38 PM she brushes crumbs off her fingertips. it's gotten harder and harder to resent the cut of his amusement - peggy finds she might chase it on one occasion or another - but she manages to scrounge together a decent scowl for him all the same.
but much like her smiles used to, this scowl doesn't reach her eyes.
you first, then.
and it's her turn to gesture at "the thing" and "it" - nudging her plate and the remaining pop tart in his direction.
tadity - Last Sunday at 1:51 PM oi; i wasn't the one looking to have my breakfast and eat yours too. but it's a mild protest, and much like her scowl not heartfelt in the least. well--mostly. rip does realize that he won't walk away from this challenge victorious: refusing means that peggy's proven her point, and accepting means--well.
eating a poptart with marmite smeared on it.
no, the best he can hope for is to perhaps take her down with him, and to that end rip goes about the process of adorning the aforementioned sweet with the savory spread pulled from the closets. just a touch, naturally, no more than he'd put on his toast, and after meeting peggy's gaze he takes a decent bite, chewing it slowly while considering the taste.
...it really is as bad as he suspected. not inedible, but absolutely not good. yet the key is to not let peggy know that. rather, rip focuses on keeping his expression completely neutral as he chews and swallows, before holding the pastry out to her.
there, see? easily done.
novelties - Last Sunday at 2:29 PM she's hawkish while she watches him. attention pinned and unashamed in how her stare is pure examination. a sentimental stock-taking of his finer qualities can wait for another night (another morning?) when she's still roped warmly in his arms - some moment other than right now.
oh don't go overselling it, mister hunter, she offers dryly. this time she absolutely does change seats - tugging her 'borrowed' shirt down her hips before she relocates to the space beside him on the he sofa. she lifts the pop tart and takes a very conservative - and uncharacteristically delicate - nibble.
followed by a sharp exhale and a curse.
tadity - Last Sunday at 5:18 PM well. there' so complaint offered in how she decides to move, settling now next to him rather than merely waiting for the poptart in question to be passed over. equally, rip enjoys the spare seconds spent watching peggy move about in his shirt, how it frames her figure, and teases the fact that she's been left with nothing underneath.
certainly if they weren't still figuring out their way around each other--and indeed, if last night hadn't been so utterly satisfying--it might be reason enough to tug her down onto his lap.
but instead he takes his turn as observer as she offers wry comment on his appraisal, then takes a bite of her own. problem is, he's left unsure of whether she finds it ghastly or delightful. the last time he heard her curse like that, he's fairly sure it had been when his fingers had still been pressed within her.
surely she can't like it that much.
and your verdict, miss carter?
novelties - Last Sunday at 7:24 PM she slides into the neighbouring space and somehow -- somehow -- manages to piece together a kind of sly grace as she sits with her knees tucked together and her bare heels on the floor but angled just inches beneath the sofa. despite the combination not being a good one, peggy takes another bite as if a second attempt might somehow lend the flavours more nuance. but no: in the end it's just two very different tastes incapable of harmonizing in this particular format. maybe if the marmite had been inside the pastry...
it's a question she doesn't bother to answer. it feels altogether too culinarily ambitious.
peggy shakes her head.
as breakfasts go, it's unimpressive. not the sort of thing worth sticking around for, really.
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Feb 22 2018 - NSFW
and in the morning it's back to mister hunter and miss carter
and the only pressing question is who fixes the tea and who suffers not having it the way they want
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:39 PM
omg well...
peggy would very much like to stay in bed for once.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:40 PM
....see and that puts rip in a terrible position
because if he doesn't put sugar in her tea, does that mean he's acknowleding too much?
because truth be told--he rather does enjoy having her there
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM
you know your relationship is kinda screwy when the question of whether or not you put sugar in your lovers tea is actually the hardest one.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM
LOL yeah pretty much
is she hungry? should he summon some of those poptarts she keeps on hand?
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM
uhm yes.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:42 PM
granted, he's not got a singing toaster to heat them in.
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:43 PM
he might be trying to tease her about it but she just nods because dammit she likes pop tarts
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:43 PM
....so poptarts and a toaster then
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:44 PM
and informs him that it's okay, she'll eat them untoasted too.
(very romantic morning after)
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:44 PM
and he just comments that no, they were barely edible heated up
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:45 PM
and while ordinarily she would gleefully rise to the occasion this time all she does is flip him the v-sign, roll over, and pull his pillow against her chest while she pretends to ignore him and go back to sleep.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:47 PM
well. this is a new side to her, isn't it? and yet as Rip watches her laze, there's a grin on his face. new, but not unwelcome. so he'll be ignored and go about his business, making tea and poptarts and toast for himself, thank you--and somewhere along the way, just on coincidence, begin to hum "God Save the Queen."
completely at random, of course.
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:49 PM
and silently she kinda enjoys it. the humming, at least, if not the anthem.
god she probably stays in bed right up until she's told she can't get pop tart crumbs in it so if she wants her breakfast she'd better get up.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:51 PM
okay but
what a perfect opportunity to grab his shirt
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:51 PM
.....
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:51 PM
and tug it on in lieu of getting fully dressed
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:52 PM
yep.
she's not getting back into her clothes until after she showers. so his shirt will do in the meantime.
i was going to say she pulls it on whole he's not looking but i actually think i prefer the thought of him standing there, plates in hand, while she sits up in his bed and very efficiently dons his shirt.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:54 PM
and certainly he wouldn't protest it. he would watch, absolutely, transfixed and forgetful of just why he's ushered her up as she puts it on.
novelties - Last Saturday at 11:56 PM
and! since she's up anyway...
she grabs a pop tart off the plate as she walks by to intercede and pour her own tea now that it's brewed.
tadity - Last Saturday at 11:58 PM
all of which is a perfect reminder that, oh right, he shouldn't just stand there staring. so off to the sitting area he goes.
February 25, 2018
novelties - Last Sunday at 12:00 AM
and she follows, tea in one hand while the pop tart, missing one bite, balances on the rim. while the other hand (the healing one) prods gingerly at the marks he's left on her skin just underneath the line of his shirt's collar.
- it's an awkward silence.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:02 AM
he catches sight of her when he turns, naturally, sees where her hand lies. things haven't gotten quite so awkward for him just yet--after all, of the pair of them, he's likely more used to such mornings after.
still. he nods towards her efforts. nothing too sore, i hope?
novelties - Last Sunday at 12:04 AM
and maybe it's just a little too indicative of how very much she's not used to such mornings after when she clings to a thin guard of deflection : do you?
hope, that is.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:08 AM
one way or the other, it's not the answer he was expecting. the surprise shows on his face--but perhaps it shouldn't. he's seen those rare moments of vulnerability from peggy a few times now. when he thinks it through, he'll understand that it's in her nature to recoil when she feels exposed.
it does, however, make his answer an easy one.
actually, yes. i rather enjoyed last night. and this morning, those awkward touches aside. he sits on the couch, leaving her the choice of her normal chair or something closer should she choose.
novelties - Last Sunday at 12:13 AM
her first inclination is to play the whole thing off as nothing unusual. yes, she stayed longer than anticipated. yes, she's now sinking (rather purposefully) into her chair. but it can't have been all that different from any other spirited wednesday night. except that she still can't recall the exact number of lovely wreckages he'd driven her to, last night. except she can recall clinging to him afterwards and whispering soft affection against his warm skin while they shared their sticky afterglow.
if i'm sore, she allows, then it's not such a terrible sort of sore.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:19 AM
duly noted.
she does not yield lightly; rip undestands this about peggy, has nearly from the start of their interactions. she is a woman of expectation and demand, and if one will not yield when she believes they should, then she will stubbornly stand her ground until they do. so that allowance, however small it may seem, stands telling. rip glances down towards his cup of tea (already sugared, naturally), and for a brief moment betrays a faint smile at her admission.
not so terrible is, it would seem, rather good enough.
what isn't, he decides, is his toast as it stands: buttery, yes, but not enough. after a moment he stands up, fetches something from the closet--a small familiar filled with brown spread, a dab of which he starts to spread onto his toast.
novelties - Last Sunday at 12:27 AM
she isn't all that sore anyway. pleasantly tuckered, rather, despite spending the rest of the night sleeping in a tangle with him. the nearest she comes to sore is a the lingering ache in her muscles - no doubt from being wrapped and stretched across him at such an unconventional angle.
but the question fades away when she watches him get up and go and come back. she nibbles in her pop tart the whole while. and she she recognizes the squat bottle. it's her turn to smile.
your a marmite person.
there are only three kinds of people on the entire universe, she's certain of it. marmite people, vegemite people, and the poor souls who can settle for neither.
learning he's one of the former is like another slippers moment.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:36 AM
he hadn't been thinking much of it, of course. only that he's rather hungry this morning--to be expected, given the vigors of the night before. if anything he might argue his hand a touch stiff, but it's a complaint that won't get voiced; for rip, the cost is a minor one indeed given all that had led up to it, more of a pleasant reminder than anything he might call annoying.
but marmite seems just the right thing to add to his toast; salty, familiar, one of so many new discoveries made after he'd been escorted to mary xavier's house. and quintessentially british, which would well explain the way peggy smiles rather than scoffs at the yeasty stuff.
indeed so. evidenced a moment later by the bite he takes of his toast. funny, though--he never would have known of it if not for time travel. assuming he survived past childhood (and rip generally doesn't), he would've been over forty before the first factory opened up.
another way in which he's the truer relic of the two of them, perhaps.
novelties - Last Sunday at 6:30 AM
in the time it's taken then both to settle and situate themselves, peggy has all but polished off one whole pop tart. she chases the crumbs down on the plate, dabbing a licked finger help catch every last one. there is (of course) a whole second pastry waiting for her, nudged to the side, but she's in no rush to break it apart and eat it quite as voraciously as the first. instead she focuses on the cuppa -- scooting forward in her chair with a bit of obvious and decadent pandiculation. her arms reach over her head; her back stretches. somewhere deep in her skeleton there's a gratifying little pop. so loosened, she grabs at the mug and seems to down almost half of it in one steady go.
may i? she lifts a finger off the ceramic so as to point out the piece of toast in his hand. she wants a bite -- already greedily eyeing his breakfast even before she finishes hers. but maybe greed is just an excuse to lean further forward until she's nearly touching him with a bare knee.
tadity - Last Sunday at 12:33 PM
well; by his judgment, something seems to have settled within peggy. perhaps the first pangs of hunger eased, or the way she stretches out have loosed tense nerves. at least to rip's estimation, the silence isn't quite so tense by the point she grabs at her tea; honestly, part of him considers picking up a book, as is his normal morning routine, reading a chapter or two while they sit and eat (and naturally, expecting peggy would perhaps do the same--he's got a number of them floating around the room).
seems she's got her own ideas though. just as he's about to break the stillness she beats him to it, motioning to his toast with a request for a taste. there's a moment of pause, borning of old instincts refreshed thanks to Wonderland's meddling; sharing food had become an unthinkable notion then, but times have changed. he has, to enough degree to recognize his own manner of ridiculousness.
as you'd like. he holds out the bit of toast, while at the same moment eyeing the half of her breakfast that remains. you know, there's plenty of spread left. it might not be so bad on the tart you've got.
weirder things have been mixed together, he's sure.
novelties - Last Sunday at 1:00 PM
her nose crinkles in disgust. not over the toast - that she rather enjoys, tearing a bite off and chewing before she can speak. rather she doesn't much like the thought of mingling her new-fangled breakfast food with such a staid old staple.
peggy helps herself to a second (smaller) nibble before she offers back his slice and spread.
don't be ridiculous.
tadity - Last Sunday at 1:04 PM
her expression makes clear her opinion on the idea before peggy offers up verbal retort, and equally, gives rip scant seconds to decide just what counter he might offer her critique. a few sips of tea first--he's thirsty as well as hungry--and he glances to peggy with obvious amusement as he protests her point.
i'm not. it's not like i'm suggesting you lather the thing with it. he motions to "the thing" and "it" respectively with a hand upon each mention. just use enough to enhance the flavor of the chocolate. a blend of salty and sweet.
novelties - Last Sunday at 1:38 PM
she brushes crumbs off her fingertips. it's gotten harder and harder to resent the cut of his amusement - peggy finds she might chase it on one occasion or another - but she manages to scrounge together a decent scowl for him all the same.
but much like her smiles used to, this scowl doesn't reach her eyes.
you first, then.
and it's her turn to gesture at "the thing" and "it" - nudging her plate and the remaining pop tart in his direction.
tadity - Last Sunday at 1:51 PM
oi; i wasn't the one looking to have my breakfast and eat yours too. but it's a mild protest, and much like her scowl not heartfelt in the least. well--mostly. rip does realize that he won't walk away from this challenge victorious: refusing means that peggy's proven her point, and accepting means--well.
eating a poptart with marmite smeared on it.
no, the best he can hope for is to perhaps take her down with him, and to that end rip goes about the process of adorning the aforementioned sweet with the savory spread pulled from the closets. just a touch, naturally, no more than he'd put on his toast, and after meeting peggy's gaze he takes a decent bite, chewing it slowly while considering the taste.
...it really is as bad as he suspected. not inedible, but absolutely not good. yet the key is to not let peggy know that. rather, rip focuses on keeping his expression completely neutral as he chews and swallows, before holding the pastry out to her.
there, see? easily done.
novelties - Last Sunday at 2:29 PM
she's hawkish while she watches him. attention pinned and unashamed in how her stare is pure examination. a sentimental stock-taking of his finer qualities can wait for another night (another morning?) when she's still roped warmly in his arms - some moment other than right now.
oh don't go overselling it, mister hunter, she offers dryly. this time she absolutely does change seats - tugging her 'borrowed' shirt down her hips before she relocates to the space beside him on the he sofa. she lifts the pop tart and takes a very conservative - and uncharacteristically delicate - nibble.
followed by a sharp exhale and a curse.
tadity - Last Sunday at 5:18 PM
well. there' so complaint offered in how she decides to move, settling now next to him rather than merely waiting for the poptart in question to be passed over. equally, rip enjoys the spare seconds spent watching peggy move about in his shirt, how it frames her figure, and teases the fact that she's been left with nothing underneath.
certainly if they weren't still figuring out their way around each other--and indeed, if last night hadn't been so utterly satisfying--it might be reason enough to tug her down onto his lap.
but instead he takes his turn as observer as she offers wry comment on his appraisal, then takes a bite of her own. problem is, he's left unsure of whether she finds it ghastly or delightful. the last time he heard her curse like that, he's fairly sure it had been when his fingers had still been pressed within her.
surely she can't like it that much.
and your verdict, miss carter?
novelties - Last Sunday at 7:24 PM
she slides into the neighbouring space and somehow -- somehow -- manages to piece together a kind of sly grace as she sits with her knees tucked together and her bare heels on the floor but angled just inches beneath the sofa. despite the combination not being a good one, peggy takes another bite as if a second attempt might somehow lend the flavours more nuance. but no: in the end it's just two very different tastes incapable of harmonizing in this particular format. maybe if the marmite had been inside the pastry...
it's a question she doesn't bother to answer. it feels altogether too culinarily ambitious.
peggy shakes her head.
as breakfasts go, it's unimpressive. not the sort of thing worth sticking around for, really.
but here she is. sticking around.