He's used to Eren listening to him play the violin, but he still feels a little self-conscious singing in front of someone. Usually when he sang, it was among a choir- where his voice is just one drop in an ocean of sound. So doing it on his own...it's a rather different experience.
But when he spares glances over to Eren while he cooks and sings, he sees how entranced Eren is by it. It fills him with a sense of joy. There was nothing better than when he could move people with music. When he can get reactions like that. Terra had referred to him as Songbird, and while it wasn't exactly the coolest of names, it did fit him.
When Eren holds his shoulders and kisses his head, he smiles and gives a small happy laugh. Elliot knew the lyrics, but he hadn't realized how much Eren had thought about their meaning before picking them. Nicely done.]
Hehe, aww. Right back at ya.
[He wouldn't have made it this far without Eren. If Elliot was a songbird, then it was Eren who had convinced him to try to fly out his cage door]
[ when improvising actually works, hehe. score. eren probably wouldnāt call him a songbird, but his reaction might as well put him on an even higher pedestal. the reply has his thumbs rubbing the otherās shoulders and his head ducking away with certain brightness to his cheeks.
heās glad, really, that he can do something so important. the song, the general air and overall feel of āgathering storiesā where they stood flips a switch, and he remembers short cut blond hair running to meet him with a book. armin, that was his name, the same one he met in the street. they were just kids, outcasts, really. there was nothing really beyond that other than fondness when he thinks back. he had a book that could get them arrestedā and he still told the stories with twinkling eyes. lakes of fire, lands of ice, fields of sand, the ocean. even while itās quiet, eren can still hear elliotās melody of going through fires, through lakes, opening doors.
he smiles still, because it was possibly the only fond memory of the past he had until now, even if he knew the melancholic ending to it. it made him feel warm, and childishly excited at the discovery, resentful toward an unknown source, even, somewhere a little deeper. the dreams were separated, but they were locked together. the blond saw wonders, and eren saw freedomā something he didnāt have, and only noticed then. he never had a dream until he was shown how to dream.
itās similar, but when he turns his head with pans in hand and sees elliot from the corner of his eyes, it . . . was different. so different, running so much deeper for him here that it couldnāt compare. it was a good memory, but it doesnāt particularly deviate him from the one that was being made now. it might as well had amplify what heās feeling. heās glad, that he was good enough to open doors like that. it was an amazing sensation, and nothing could quite meet the height of freedom. itās still important to him.
elliotās words come back to him a second time, and he canāt help but to be damn grateful heās exchanging it with him. ]
Iām glad. [ elliot made him . . . a little too mushy. itās almost embarrassingly apparent. ] This looks . . . great.
[Elliot on the other hand, doesn't notice any awakening of memories. He's simply here now, in the present with Eren. Really there's no place he'd rather be. Sure, being a little stuck here because of the fog wasn't ideal, but it still gave them a reason to be together like this.
While Eren brings over the pans of spaghetti and chicken, Elliot will kneel down and pull out some warmed up garlic bread from the oven. Because that's right, gotta be fancy here. He'll put it on a large plate and bring it over to the table]
[ itās so unimportant he doesnāt even mention it. just flies over his head. like a plane. wow, look at that plane. now look down, back up, and to yoā man. much better.
eren thought he smelled something else cooking, but he figured it was the chicken, and seasoningā until he turns from setting the table and pulls elliotās chair out for him (because he gentleman), because loā and behold: thereās garlic bread. did he know? did mom give him deets??? he loves hamburgers but come onā heāll eat all the garlic bread and leave a hole in the table for guests.
still waiting behind elliotās chair to push him in, he seems to gawk a little. augh, his mouth watered so bad just when he was about to speak he nearly drooled. gross!!! eren!!! briefly covering his mouth and not letting that happen by a hair, he pretty much squawks. even titan comes over to lay by the table and watch all the delicious happenings going on. he canāt got to the table. table is bad. but heāll stay there at comfy watching distance, sniffing the air with a kong toy between his paws. ]
[It's more a lucky guess really. There was bread and the proper seasonings, so why not make garlic bread as a side? He'll set it on the table and sit down, beaming and making a happy little noise at Eren as he acts like such a gentleman and pushes in his chair.
Which wow, he must've done something right, because Eren looks like he's about ready to drool]
[ heās so bad at seasoning. mom has explained it and written it down more times than lawmakers. it always comes out wrong. but erenās poor kitchen prowess aside, donāt touch the inside of his palm. itās wet. heās a smooth criminal though, and wipes it on his pants before he pushes elliot in. leave no drooling evidence behind.
which is difficult to hide further with such an open book eren is, sliding into his seat in front of elliot and giving his side a clap. ]
Iām gonna eat it all.
[ heās joking. sort of. obviously. not. maybe. he smiles, though, look at the half funny he made. hereās the big thingā elliot cooked everything up. he made the best dinner eren couldnāve imagined. heād try and heat up more apple strudel if you let him, or stick some sausages in the microwave. the cook deserved the first and best plate, so lifting a bit off his seat, eren holds his hand out to take elliotās plate, going for a lovely ball of spaghetti to start. ]
[ meanwhile, across like five different threads everyone else is going youāre a jerk eren. the contrast is intense. his publicly rare but docile smile shines bright when complimented, ears sounding (coloring?) off with ease, feeling like he had been given a dozen at once, and that those were the only words that really mattered. who cares about the rest, not him. ]
Youāre the one who made it, [ it was obvious heād serve him first. there goes the pasta, and the chicken, and two generously placed pieces of garlic bread. once thatās set, heāll go onto his. ] so youāre doing the honors.
[Yeah well none of those people are here right now so Elliot don't give a crap. He's aware Eren can be not...the easiest to get along with, but whatever he's always good to him.]
Hehe. [He'll take the plate with a thank you, being polite enough to wait for Eren to get served before digging in] I told you it's fine. I like cooking, and you're letting me stay here anyway.
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no subject
He's used to Eren listening to him play the violin, but he still feels a little self-conscious singing in front of someone. Usually when he sang, it was among a choir- where his voice is just one drop in an ocean of sound. So doing it on his own...it's a rather different experience.
But when he spares glances over to Eren while he cooks and sings, he sees how entranced Eren is by it. It fills him with a sense of joy. There was nothing better than when he could move people with music. When he can get reactions like that. Terra had referred to him as Songbird, and while it wasn't exactly the coolest of names, it did fit him.
When Eren holds his shoulders and kisses his head, he smiles and gives a small happy laugh. Elliot knew the lyrics, but he hadn't realized how much Eren had thought about their meaning before picking them. Nicely done.]
Hehe, aww. Right back at ya.
[He wouldn't have made it this far without Eren. If Elliot was a songbird, then it was Eren who had convinced him to try to fly out his cage door]
no subject
heās glad, really, that he can do something so important. the song, the general air and overall feel of āgathering storiesā where they stood flips a switch, and he remembers short cut blond hair running to meet him with a book. armin, that was his name, the same one he met in the street. they were just kids, outcasts, really. there was nothing really beyond that other than fondness when he thinks back. he had a book that could get them arrestedā and he still told the stories with twinkling eyes. lakes of fire, lands of ice, fields of sand, the ocean. even while itās quiet, eren can still hear elliotās melody of going through fires, through lakes, opening doors.
he smiles still, because it was possibly the only fond memory of the past he had until now, even if he knew the melancholic ending to it. it made him feel warm, and childishly excited at the discovery, resentful toward an unknown source, even, somewhere a little deeper. the dreams were separated, but they were locked together. the blond saw wonders, and eren saw freedomā something he didnāt have, and only noticed then. he never had a dream until he was shown how to dream.
itās similar, but when he turns his head with pans in hand and sees elliot from the corner of his eyes, it . . . was different. so different, running so much deeper for him here that it couldnāt compare. it was a good memory, but it doesnāt particularly deviate him from the one that was being made now. it might as well had amplify what heās feeling. heās glad, that he was good enough to open doors like that. it was an amazing sensation, and nothing could quite meet the height of freedom. itās still important to him.
elliotās words come back to him a second time, and he canāt help but to be damn grateful heās exchanging it with him. ]
Iām glad. [ elliot made him . . . a little too mushy. itās almost embarrassingly apparent. ] This looks . . . great.
no subject
While Eren brings over the pans of spaghetti and chicken, Elliot will kneel down and pull out some warmed up garlic bread from the oven. Because that's right, gotta be fancy here. He'll put it on a large plate and bring it over to the table]
Haha, thanks. I hope it tastes great too.
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eren thought he smelled something else cooking, but he figured it was the chicken, and seasoningā until he turns from setting the table and pulls elliotās chair out for him (because he gentleman), because loā and behold: thereās garlic bread. did he know? did mom give him deets??? he loves hamburgers but come onā heāll eat all the garlic bread and leave a hole in the table for guests.
still waiting behind elliotās chair to push him in, he seems to gawk a little. augh, his mouth watered so bad just when he was about to speak he nearly drooled. gross!!! eren!!! briefly covering his mouth and not letting that happen by a hair, he pretty much squawks. even titan comes over to lay by the table and watch all the delicious happenings going on. he canāt got to the table. table is bad. but heāll stay there at comfy watching distance, sniffing the air with a kong toy between his paws. ]
Shit, you made a mistake.
[ heās smiling, though. there is no mistake.
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Which wow, he must've done something right, because Eren looks like he's about ready to drool]
What mistake is that?
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which is difficult to hide further with such an open book eren is, sliding into his seat in front of elliot and giving his side a clap. ]
Iām gonna eat it all.
[ heās joking. sort of. obviously. not. maybe. he smiles, though, look at the half funny he made. hereās the big thingā elliot cooked everything up. he made the best dinner eren couldnāve imagined. heād try and heat up more apple strudel if you let him, or stick some sausages in the microwave. the cook deserved the first and best plate, so lifting a bit off his seat, eren holds his hand out to take elliotās plate, going for a lovely ball of spaghetti to start. ]
You first.
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Haha, just leave me a couple pieces and you can eat all you'd like.
[Since seriously, Elliot's appetite isn't that big. But he'll hand over his plate, with a big smile on his face]
Aw, you're such a gentleman.
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Youāre the one who made it, [ it was obvious heād serve him first. there goes the pasta, and the chicken, and two generously placed pieces of garlic bread. once thatās set, heāll go onto his. ] so youāre doing the honors.
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Hehe. [He'll take the plate with a thank you, being polite enough to wait for Eren to get served before digging in] I told you it's fine. I like cooking, and you're letting me stay here anyway.