projectroxas | (no subject)

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[ double-checks that everything in the house is straightened and in its proper place, despite having cleaned everything earlier that morning. a few peeks up the stairs towards her brother's room is the only other movement she makes besides nudging things here and there, taking a seat on the edge of a chair when she realizes that it probably won't be very long now. is quite aware (was made aware) that her brother had tricked anthony into thinking they were going to meet at twelve instead of twelve-thirty, but still can't help but glance outside the front window every few minutes to make sure that she would be there when he arrived. ]

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[ once again looks at him questioningly, merely smiling as she shuts the cabinet door. ]

Pasta it is, then.

[ gives the chicken a pat & turns away from it finally. ]

What do you want me to do?

[ hums a little in thought. walks back over to him, holding out the box. ]

Can you start making the pasta, then?

[ nods & takes the box of pasta. glances down at it, flipping it over so that he can look at the back. ]

Do you want me to make all of this? Half of it?

[ begins pulling out a pot, placing it on the stove. ]

All of it should be good. We'll make extra, just in case mother and father are hungry when they return.

[ gives the box a curious shake, then gets to work, tugging out a pot for the pasta as well. filling it half-way with water, he sets it on the stove next to the pot that anne has set while putting the box of pasta on the counter, waiting for the water to boil. ]

[ smiles at him as he works, slowly beginning to do her own share of movement. after she has the chicken wrapped in foil and placed in the oven she gets to work at chopping vegetables, speaking up after a while: ]

How was your day, Anthony? Good?

[ eyes the water. ]

Yeah, it was good. Surprisingly. I only got hit twice.

Hit twice?

At the sports store.

[ looks a little apologetic, tilting her head to inspect him a little. ]

Oh... are you hurt?

[ turns his head left & right to show that he's not bruising. ]

Nope. The soccer ball and me are best friends.

[ looks him over some more before moving back again, satisfied. ]

He tends to get a little too excited sometimes. [ wanders to the sink, washing off the knife she had been using. ] You should see him when he watches the World Cup.

[ cringes a bit. ]

No, it's okay. That should come with a health warning sticker.

[ chuckles at that. ]

Perhaps. [ leans on the counter a little. ] Does your father like soccer as well?

[ slowly begins to add the pasta when the water seems heated enough. ]

Not really. He's more of a racket person.

How did you get into soccer, then?

[ shrugs. ]

Genetic mutation? I always liked it. Played since middle school.

[ can't help but smile at those words, nodding in understanding. ]

We grew up with it, that's why I was curious.

[ nods. ]

That's the normal way. Do you like it?

[ moves to put the vegetables into a pan, placing it on the stove while flipping the burner on. ]

I enjoy it, but it's mostly my father and brother that like it the most.

You've never played?

I tried once with big brother when we were younger. [ smiles brightly as she points at her face. ] I almost broke my nose!

[ long pause. adds a correction: ]

He almost broke your nose?

[ blushes, looking down at the floor. ]

Sort of... I lied and said I knew what I was doing when I really didn't. It wasn't his fault.