[she lingers over his question, one that's still painful to think about in some ways, but in others, it isn't so much. she wants him to know about her life, wants to share it.]
I grew up in Novi Grad, which was the capital city of Sokovia. It was high up in the mountains, so the winters would be very cold. Sometimes even just walking outside in January would make your face feel numb.
[ he smiles down at his phone, jaw cresting his chest. wanda makes a lot of things easier. talking about himself. being brave enough to seek more of her. ]
sunshine state all the way ✌️
[ morbidly funny to think they gave him the power of a million suns or whatever. ]
that makes sense to me is there anything you especially miss from home?
[ so he can know what shape the hole inside her takes. so he can try to find the thing she’s missing, even though he knows these things can never be filled. ]
[she thinks about this for a minute — not because she feels self-conscious (he's seen her practically naked now, after all), but because that's the time it takes to find the way she wants to phrase this.]
I miss when things felt simple, I guess. I know they never really were, because I could always hear what was going on outside our window every night, [the fighting, the protests she'd later become involved in herself, the guns] but Mama and Papa tried.
[and it does feel lighter, with that not being held so tightly in her chest.]
I also miss kajmak. Butter on toast isn't the same.
[ wanting to return to a world of simplicity and safety that might never have been real. it's why he always ends up in the attic.
her melancholy bleeds through the message. words he can hear in the accent she's sanded down. ]
kajmak i'll have to look it up
[ he'll do more than that. next week, at breakfast, one of the staff brings out kajmak for wanda. a special request, from an earnest guest who'd stopped by the prep kitchen after a morning run some days ago. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[she lingers over his question, one that's still painful to think about in some ways, but in others, it isn't so much. she wants him to know about her life, wants to share it.]
I grew up in Novi Grad, which was the capital city of Sokovia. It was high up in the mountains, so the winters would be very cold. Sometimes even just walking outside in January would make your face feel numb.
no subject
i can’t even imagine that kinda cold
[ but even bob reynolds knows what happened to sokovia. ]
is it hard
being reminded of it, i mean
no subject
Where did you say you were from? Florida?
[a gentle tease, because of course she knows where he's from; bob talks about it.]
It's still hard sometimes. I'm not sure it's something that'll ever stop being hard, but I'd rather be reminded of it than forget it.
no subject
sunshine state all the way ✌️
[ morbidly funny to think they gave him the power of a million suns or whatever. ]
that makes sense to me
is there anything you especially miss from home?
[ so he can know what shape the hole inside her takes. so he can try to find the thing she’s missing, even though he knows these things can never be filled. ]
no subject
I miss when things felt simple, I guess. I know they never really were, because I could always hear what was going on outside our window every night, [the fighting, the protests she'd later become involved in herself, the guns] but Mama and Papa tried.
[and it does feel lighter, with that not being held so tightly in her chest.]
I also miss kajmak. Butter on toast isn't the same.
🎀
[ wanting to return to a world of simplicity and safety that might never have been real. it's why he always ends up in the attic.
her melancholy bleeds through the message. words he can hear in the accent she's sanded down. ]
kajmak
i'll have to look it up
[ he'll do more than that. next week, at breakfast, one of the staff brings out kajmak for wanda. a special request, from an earnest guest who'd stopped by the prep kitchen after a morning run some days ago. ]