You can't just stash an entire wizard in your room he says. And yet, she's ready to face the challenge head on, rearranging her life to easily fit him in. He's the missing piece to a puzzle she didn't realize was entirely incomplete and minor inconveniences of splitting her room in half are outweighed by his presence alone. How does this not make sense to him? He's understood her since day one-
Day one being-when? Her ears slope down, then up, as she tries to work through the timeline of their life together, feeling like there's more than what she remembers off the top of her head. It all blends together into some weird, vague memory. But if there's anything to come from this, it's the high interest rate he just agreed to.
"No, they'll miss you too. You make everyone happy." She relents. Dang, it's called a commute, Uncle Taako, everyone does it. Though this is the closest she's gotten to winning since the cooking adventure started. The napkin gets pulled out and she hurries to her bag, turning it upside down to dump everything over the floor to find a pencil? pen? something to write with. Time the sign the dotted line, heathen. Her writing is terrible, whether it's indistinguishable because of the messy way she throws down the terms and conditions or just being unable to spell-who knows. The contents are a mystery.
"Okay, now you can sign this thing. You have to visit more and when I'm very good at cooking, you'll live with us. That's what it says." That's what part of it says, at least. There's a bit more-fine print? It looks like a scribble so ignore it, most people do.
no subject
Day one being-when? Her ears slope down, then up, as she tries to work through the timeline of their life together, feeling like there's more than what she remembers off the top of her head. It all blends together into some weird, vague memory. But if there's anything to come from this, it's the high interest rate he just agreed to.
"No, they'll miss you too. You make everyone happy." She relents. Dang, it's called a commute, Uncle Taako, everyone does it. Though this is the closest she's gotten to winning since the cooking adventure started. The napkin gets pulled out and she hurries to her bag, turning it upside down to dump everything over the floor to find a pencil? pen? something to write with. Time the sign the dotted line, heathen. Her writing is terrible, whether it's indistinguishable because of the messy way she throws down the terms and conditions or just being unable to spell-who knows. The contents are a mystery.
"Okay, now you can sign this thing. You have to visit more and when I'm very good at cooking, you'll live with us. That's what it says." That's what part of it says, at least. There's a bit more-fine print? It looks like a scribble so ignore it, most people do.