The Language of Love

by TheOriginalDash

A Box of Chicken Stock and a Jaunty Tune

ZZZZZ.....ZZZZZ.....ZZZZZ.....ZZZZZ.....ZZZZZ.....ZZZZZ.....ZZ--

"...Hello? Who'sit," I mumbled sleepily into the microphone of my now-not-buzzing phone. Such a pity to wake up to such a horrendous noise. Like a giant paper wasp flitting around my ears. Hm, that was rather poetic.

"This is Octavia...I was wondering... I figured you might have some experience with this... How do you get rid of a monster hangover?" Oh, of course it was Octavia. All the staff have each other's phone numbers, in case we turn up missing. I was cut off mid-yawn when I heard her name, though, choking on my own air supply. This dissolved into a fit of giggles at her predicament. Of course she had a massive hangover, she downed nearly a pint and a half of whisky last night. That's not good for anyone.

“If you have a hangover, why the hell are you up right now? Go back to bed and sleep it off. It’s what I do.”

“Look, I don’t appreciate your ill-advised humor… And for you information, I am up this early because I have to be. I set an alarm so that I could be sure to be ready in time for my meeting this afternoon… Could you stop laughing at me now? You’re making my headache worse, damnit…” Oops. May have pushed a bit too far. And now the fair maiden is cranky. Damsel in distress, and she’s bitching about it the whole way, huh. Yeesh.

"I'm sorry, I know, I laughed at something that isn't particularly funny to you right now. But this is karma, paying you back for drinking so much last night. Do you have any idea how much whisky you were drowning in? Quite a lot. I guess Miss Prim-and-Proper can't hold her alcohol so well, huh?" I had a little sympathy in my heart for her, mostly because I was so infatuated with her. I hate seeing beautiful people suffer. But at the same time, it was still funny.

"...I really didn't keep track of how much I drank, I just paid the bill at the end without thinking. Oh dear... Anyway, you wouldn't possibly know of any way to kill a hangover any faster, would you? Please, I'm dying..." Ouch, a little overdramatic there. Oh well. While it may be funny, I have too big of a soft spot for this dame to let her suffer any longer.

"Well, basically, alcohol is causing you to be dehydrated, which is probably why the room is spinning right now, I presume. And it causes your blood vessels to dilate, which is why you have a monster of a headache. Best thing to help dehydration is to find a sports drink or two, or, in absence of that, drink copious amounts of water. Also, lots of ibuprofen. Best painkiller ever invented. Lay down for a few hours and do this stuff, and you should be alright by..." I quickly check the clock, which read 9:07, "You should be fine by three o'clock or so. Usually, I make some of my famous chicken noodle soup, and some warm green tea, but I can't just waltz into your house and start cooking, so you're on your own." I couldn't just do that, could I? Nah. We're really not close enough yet for that to be appropriate. Even if Octavia is probably totally in her sleepwear, sexy as all hell... Nope. Not going there.

"...Sports drink, ibuprofen. Got it... Wait a minute. You should absolutely come make some of your soup and tea... I have a meeting at four, and if that'll help... Please? Pretty please? With a cherry on top? I know we're not the closest of pals yet, but I could really use a favor right now..." And there went any resistance and will I had. How could I say no to such a beautiful, dulcet voice? That charming, slight lilt in her accent that implied she was from somewhere in upper Canterlot. It gets me every damn time... Sigh.

"Are you sure? I mean, we're not really close friends at all. How do you know that I won't just come into your house and decide to murder you or something?" I was trying to rationalize my way out of this situation any way that I could, though the thoughts of a sleepy, sexy Octavia in sweatpants that were slowly creeping into my mind weren't helping at all. I needed to come up with a way to not have to go over there, and quickly.

"Well, Lyra, Bonnie, and Symph all trust you, so why shouldn't I? And you didn't take advantage of me last night. You were a perfect gentlewoman. Even when... Even when I may have overstepped my bounds... Is that why you sound so nervous? Oh, I'm so sorry. It's just, I'm very used to being affectionate with my close friends, and it just... happened. I'm terribly sorry. I promise, I won't ever do it again if it makes you feel uncomfortable. That tea and soup just sound so delightful right now... And I would be forever indebted to you if you could find it in you to bring some to me..." Wow. She apologized for that little kiss. Not that she needed to, but... wow. She must either really care about our new friendship, or she just is really desperate for something to fix her hangover. I'm going with the latter. I guess I could be a kind person and make the poor girl some soup. It wouldn't kill me.

"I suppose I could. You do sound quite pitiful, you know. And what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't help you in your time of need? A really sucky friend, that's what. Just, give me a little bit to get dressed and gather my ingredients. Then I'll be right over. The soup is much better fresh, so I'm commandeering your kitchen." Hey, if she's got the nerve to wake me up and beg for a favor this early in the morning, I've got the right to find an excuse to spend extra time in her company. Yay for ulterior motives!

"I really don't know if you'll be able to... It's a bit of a mess."

"Nonsense, I'll even clean it. Though, that'll cost you extra. And I don't work for cash." I winked at the white ceiling of my room, a gesture completely lost on the woman two blocks away on the other side of the call.

"Hmm... I don't know about that. Well, I suppose it's a good thing I don't pay in cash, isn't it? You'll have to take a rain check, though, my headache is a bit too bad for any... physical activity." Okay, woah. Woah. No. She did not just. I'm sorry, my brain is a little busy short-circuiting.

"Uh, uh, y-yeah... Uh huh. I'll, uh, I'm just gonna go now... I'll be there soon, yeah?" Good job Vinyl, old bean. Way to sound intelligent. I'm sure she thinks you're real charming and gentlewomanly now.

"You do that. I'll be waiting, m'lady." I caught the hint of mirth in her voice before the line crackled, and the call was over. What just happened?

I laid in bed for a few minutes longer, pondering my new predicament and rubbing my palms repeatedly over my face in an attempt to rally my thoughts. Then, I groaned and shook myself out of bed, and headed off to get dressed in something mildly respectable. I eventually settled on the faded jeans I wore last night, which didn't smell too badly of pub smoke and alcohol, and a forest green and navy blue plaid button-down, with the same checkered skate shoes I wore everywhere. I brushed my teeth and cleaned my face quickly, remembering to put deodorant on at the last minute, and instead of bothering to brush my fantastically unruly hair, I just crammed a gray beanie on top of it. As if that weren't always my solution to my hair.

I shuffled around the kitchen and grabbed a protein bar and a bottle of iced coffee from the fridge for breakfast, and quickly located my stash of green tea leaves and a box of pasta. I stuffed these into my backpack, along with various bottles of ground herbs and a box of chicken stock that I had laying around in my pantry, apparently for chicken stock emergency. I made a mental note to go and pick up fresh chicken at the market on the way to Octavia's house, as I was currently out. Sufficient supplies loaded into my backpack, I grabbed my keys and strolled out my door, whistling a half-remembered tune all the way down three flights of stairs. Luckily, the market was open by ten, so I drove straight there, picked up the chicken quickly, and was on my way to Octavia's townhouse apartment.

As I pulled into a parking space outside Octavia’s apartment building, I realized just how nervous I was. My hands were shaking as I slid them from the wheel to open the car door. I couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. It was all a little fast, a little too perfect. I had just begun to befriend Octavia, and suddenly, the next morning, she’s inviting me over to her place? Granted, it was to make the poor girl something to fix her misery, but that’s beside the point. Something interesting is afoot, I think.

I shrugged these thoughts off, as I strolled around to the back of the car to retrieve my backpack full of culinary supplies. I snagged the grocery bag that contained the chicken with the first two fingers on my right hand, and reached up to flip the hatch closed, locking the car once it thunked shut. Humming another vaguely jaunty tune, I made my way up the flights of stairs to Octavia’s front door. I steeled myself with a breath, and knocked lightly on the green wooden door. I sent up a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening that she would answer the door in clothes that I wouldn’t start hyperventilating at the sight of. That would be quite the way to give up the game.

Luckily, Octavia opened the door quickly, interrupting my line of thought. I immediately straightened up, and ran a casual hand through the shock of hair peeking out from under my beanie. She smiled rather brightly at me for such a sick individual, grinning weakly as she covered her eyes with a pale hand and propped herself against the doorframe with the other. I took a quick moment to admire her lithe figure, clad in a thin gray tee and… light blue boxers? Huh. I guess people can surprise you every once in a while. Would not have pegged her for the type.

“Hey, Vinyl, my eyes are up here, even if they are closed.” B-wha? Nope. Her eyes were just closed. And covered. There’s no way she could have possibly caught me looking her over. Could she?

“I-I… uh. Gah. Um, sorry. I was just… Admiring your fashion choices?” Octavia laughed heartily, a deep, velvety chuckle the likes of which I had never heard before. It was beautiful. Again, not what you would expect from a woman like her, but also, much better than any expectations. Damnit. I’m quite literally falling harder for her every second I spend in her presence. Coming here was a bad idea.

“Hey, it’s fine. I get that a lot. I realize I’m usually dressed more conservatively, but a nasty hangover calls for comfort over style. It’s fine. I hope you like what you see, though.” And then Octavia, dear, sweet Octavia, winked at me. Even suffering under a massive hangover, she still is just as gorgeous and seductive as ever. Gah. I think she’s just playing with me now…

“I...um. Is there a correct response to that statement?” There was that chocolatey laugh again. Dear sweet Luna, I’m doomed.

“The correct response would be, ‘Yes, I did. And now, I’m coming in to make some soup for you.’ And that is where I would introduce you to my humble abode.” With this, she stepped to one side of the doorway, and swept her arm up to welcome me inside. Oh dear. This is really happening. Oh dear Luna.

“Uh, yeah. Thank you… I’ve, uh, got the… stuff right here.” And that was such a graceful oration, I might have just won myself a Nobel Laureate. Good job, Vinyl, old bean. After that, there was nothing I could do but slip quietly into Octavia’s rather spacious apartment. I flashed her my “I’m totally nervous, but playing it cool” grin, and stood awkwardly in the short entrance hall until Octavia gestured for me to follow her into her modest kitchen. I then lightly deposited my backpack on the counter, and looked around for the “mess” I was supposed to clean up earlier. And… there was no mess. The kitchen was pretty much spotless. I don’t know what she meant.

“Hey, uh, Octavia? Where’s the mess I was supposed to be getting ‘paid’ to clean up?” She shuffled her feet almost self consciously. Okay…

“Well, I suppose there was a bit of a mess. But really, it was maybe a coffee mug and a pot. I just… I wanted you to come over and cook your soup, but I also wasn’t sure that I really did want you to come over, because… I don’t know.” She sank down into the armchair in the surprisingly roomy living space just outside of the kitchen, and rested her elbows on her knees, steepling her fingers over the bridge of her nose. “...Can… can you just make soup? Please? I… I really need to be better for that meeting…” I took slight affront at the change in her tone; it seemed almost as if she no longer wanted me there. But, a promise is a promise, and the Staccato family never breaks a promise. Our word is our bond.

I busied myself with finding a pot to make a small batch of soup in, and was very happy to find a kettle to heat water for tea. After the soup was simmering quietly on the stove, I poured water out of the now-whistling kettle into two white ceramic mugs, and set the tea to steep for a few minutes. Leaning tiredly against the gray marble countertop, I traced the pattern with my eyes while I waited patiently for the tea to be ready. The other occupant of the room was still almost silent, save the occasional grunt or soft moan of pain. My heart was tugged rather painfully with each small noise, but I couldn’t just excuse Octavia’s rather brusque manner earlier. I realize she’s in pain, but it almost felt like something else was causing the change… She went from jovial temptress, to quiet and irritable hermit in less time than it takes thunder to follow lightning. Beautiful, but dangerous.

Sighing internally, I grasped a mug firmly in each hand, and walked softly into the living area, so as not to disturb Octavia any further. I set one mug onto a coaster I found on the little coffee table, and took the other directly to Octavia. Pulling away the pillow she had smashed to her face, I helped her sit up, and gently pressed the warm mug of tea into her hands, almost apologetically. She smiled lightly at me, and took a small sip of her beverage. I could see that the tension in her shoulders and neck almost immediately relaxed, probably from the soothing effect of hot tea. Octavia continued sipping lightly at her tea as I took a seat opposite her, on the small gray sofa. I cautiously picked up my own mug from the table, and settled into the couch. I studied Octavia for several minutes before finally sighing, and drinking a little bit of tea.

“So, how is it? I’m sorry I don’t have any sugar, but I figured that green tea is best left with it’s own natural flavor. And sugar might mess with your head right now, anyway.” I posed the question, and sat in silence, waiting for an answer, as Octavia went back to rubbing at her presumably aching temples.

“It’s… good. Very good. Thank you… I apologize for the way I acted earlier. Snapping at you was a bad decision… I just… Nothing, it was all my fault. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, no matter the reasoning. I took my own frustration out on you, and that was wrong. I’m terribly sorry.” I frowned slightly. She shouldn’t be so hard on herself. Granted, snapping at the person who is doing you a major favor is kind of a bad thing to do, but I understand that she’s not feeling too well, and she’s probably under a lot of stress I don’t know about. I don’t think she was terribly rude, either.

“Octavia, look, it’s okay. You’re fine. I’m not upset. I’m totally used to people getting frustrated with me, and I know how to handle it. I know you’re feeling a little fragile right now, and I’m sorry if I upset-”

“No, you didn’t upset me. I mean, in a way, you’ve upset… something. But I’m not mad at you, or even mildly irritated. You’re doing me a huge favor, and I’m just already so grateful, and you’re such a wonderful individual, and I’m so glad that we’re friends. Thank you, Vi-” It was my turn to interrupt.

“We’re friends? What?” I stared incredulously back at the slim beauty seated opposite me. Octavia looked startled at the sudden exclamation, and I hurriedly brought my voice back down to a whisper for my next statement. “Sorry, I forgot for half a second that you’ve got a hangover. It’s just, wow. Why do you think we’re friends? You hardly ever talk to me outside of rehearsal and performances.”

“I guess… that’s probably not how a real friend would behave. I never had many friends growing up, though, so I don’t really have a reference guide on how to build friendships. I suppose I believed that we had talked enough, and shared enough witty banter in the wings, that we were sort of automatically friends. I was wrong, apparently.” She hung her head a little lower, and laughed bitterly. I had never wanted more in my whole life to hug her and hold her close than I did right then. So I did.

I stood up and rounded the coffee table in one step, and in the next second, I pulled Octavia up by one arm, and deposited her tea mug onto another handy coaster. Then I swept her thin frame into a bone-crushing hug, and held her close, purely out of impulse. I had no idea what I was doing, my heart was racing faster than anything I’d ever felt before, and I sincerely hoped Octavia couldn’t feel it. I fit my chin over her shoulder; this prompted her to bury her head in my neck, and we stayed like that for several moments, her arms clutching me tightly, and my arms encircling her slight body like a life preserver. Then, I felt her hands begin to loosen their grip, and I realized it was time to end the hug. Regretfully, I slid my arms back down to my sides, and locked gazes with Octavia for the first time this morning. Fiery carmine met frozen amethyst, and I almost wished that I could share that inner flame with Octavia, the one that made my heart beat a million times a minute when she was around. I sighed gently, and smiled at her.

“Octavia, if you want, we can be friends. I was just surprised by the fact that you considered me a friend, is all. We don’t talk a whole lot, but that’s not an issue. If you want to be friends, then we can talk any time you want. Trust me, anyone who can get along with that bunch from last night is a friend in my book. We’re okay, okay?” Octavia nodded gratefully, and sank back into her comfortable chair, already reaching for the cup of tea I had picked back up.

“Thank you, it really means a lot to me. I really… Nevermind. that’s silly.” Octavia sighed, and I sat back down on the sofa, incredibly confused. But, shrugging it off with my trademark indifference, I grabbed my own mug of tea, and Octavia and I shared a contemplative silence for a few minutes. Eventually, I broke the silence.

“Feeling any better yet? I know hangovers can be nasty, but something about warm antioxidants really seem to clear it up faster. Or at least, it does for me.” Octavia nodded slightly, and continued sipping her tea. Five feet away, in the kitchen, I heard the timer go off, indicating that the soup was done. I placed my mug down on the coffee table, and hopped up to go turn off the stove burner and look for a bowl. Locating one in an upper cabinet, I spooned out a healthy dose of hot soup, and carried it back into the living area, to Octavia. Gingerly placing the bowl in her hands and trading for the mug of tea, which I placed on the coffee table, I then grabbed my own mug and downed the remaining contents.

I strolled into the kitchen and quickly washed up everything I had used, except for the pot of the soup still remaining. I gathered all of my leftover ingredients, aside from the chicken, and tossed them into my backpack. Octavia stared questioningly at me as I prepared to leave, and I gave her a little wave as I made for the front door. I heard her call out from the other room right as I set foot in the hallway.

“Why are you leaving so soon? Please stay, keep me company…” She sounded pitiful, but I really should have been going.

“Look, I told you I would come over and make soup. I made the soup, which you are currently ingesting, so it’s probably time for me to leave.” Some of the nervousness from earlier was slowly finding its way back to me, and I did not like it.

“Aw, please, can you not stay just a bit longer? I could really use someone to talk to.” She could plead all she wanted, but I would not break.

“No, you have stuff you should be doing. And I would like to go back home and crash again. I was up way too early this morning for how late I was out last night. Goodbye, Octavia. See you around.” With that, I opened the door and stepped out onto the landing, just as I heard shuffling behind me. I turned to spot Octavia making her way toward the front door.

“Well, if you must leave, let me at least show you out. I ought to try to be a gracious hostess, hangover or not. Which is really feeling a good bit better now. Thank you. You’re a saint.” Octavia leaned over and softly pressed her lips to my cheek, a light peck, and nothing more. I leaned backward, on the verge of breaking into a full blush. Which might have been a tad suspicious. I raised one eyebrow at the raven-haired beauty, and she winked back, as I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.

“W-what was that for?” I could feel the blood in my face now, and I was pretty sure I looked like a ripe tomato.

“Well, you said you don’t work for cash, but I’m a little too under the weather to give you the proper thanks you deserve for doing me such a wonderful favor. Maybe you should stop by sometime when I’m feeling better, and we can see how grateful I am to my savior.” Octavia winked like the she-devil she is, and I could feel the blush spreading into my neck. Any further teasing, and I might just spontaneously combust. I managed to cough out a response.

“You’re just… kidding, right? You’re not actually serious?” Octavia winked at me again, quickly caressed the side of my face with her silky smooth palm.

“Maybe I’m playing, maybe I’m not. You’ll just have to come and find out sometime, won’t you?” Woah. Okay. No-kay. Let’s not do this.

“Uh… uh huh. Um… I’m just… I’m gonna go now?” I cursed myself mentally for the tiny crack in my voice at the end of that statement. What was I, some preteen boy getting his first kiss? Ugh.

“See you around, Vinyl. I really hope we can do this again sometime, hopefully without a massive hangover on my part. Drive home safely, please.” I nodded, and then hurried down the stairs, almost tripping over my own feet several times in my haste to make it to the bottom of those flights of steps.

Finally, I reached my car, and after fumbling around in my backpack for my keys, I managed to get the door unlocked and hopped inside. Breathing a sigh of relief now that I was alone, and away from Octavia, a temptress for the ages. The things she made me want, that I should not want… I quickly started the engine, and turned on the AC, in the hopes that it would cool my suddenly heated body. I drove home in complete, awkward silence. Until now, I had never even known that it was possible to have an awkward silence with only one person. I guess there’s a first time for everything.

Comments

[Taliesin of the Forest]

4499284 Hella small house,

[Kylanight]

[Frantic Starz]

I stuffed these into my backpack, along with various bottles of ground herbs and a box of chicken stock that I had laying around in my pantry, apparently for chicken stock emergency. I made a mental note to go and pick up fresh chicken at the market on the way to Octavia's house, as I was currently out. Sufficient supplies loaded into my backpack, I grabbed my keys and strolled out my door, whistling a half-remembered tune all the way down three flights of stairs.

Luckily, the market was open by ten, so I drove straight there, picked up the chicken in ten seconds flat, and was on my way to Octavia's townhouse apartment. Easy as pie. Or, chicken noodle soup. Whatever.

The references in this section feel forced. Yes they are funny but when you put three one right after the other like this it stops being funny and ceases to flow well.