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[If there's one thing that Blaine's learned, it's that every minute of every day is filled with choices. And for most people, the majority of those choices come easily to them. When it comes down to choosing between whether to heat up a frozen dinner for one or to whip up a batch of macaroni and cheese, most people have no problem deciding between the two.

But for Blaine, things are a little bit different. If he feels like cooking for himself, he has to make sure he has enough time to devote to the entire process: the process that starts with gathering the necessary ingredients and cooking supplies, and also familiarizing himself with the layout of the room he's in.

All of this takes some time, and a simple thing like making scrambled eggs for breakfast ends up becoming quite the endeavor. But the way he sees it, he has nothing but time on his hands, and what's three minutes or thirty when there's no appointments or classes to rush off to?

So, after the lengthy process of making sure everything he needed was prepared and within easy reach, Blaine settles back to wait for the stove to finish heating up to the proper temperature. He doesn't go very far away, because causing a fire this early wouldn't be great for anyone. He stays near enough that he can still feel the heat rising from the stove, working off instinct to tell when it's hot enough to cook the eggs that are sitting in a bowl to the right of the pan.

But in the meantime, he's just going to see if anyone's awake and in the mood for conversation, so he fiddles with his communication device until it flips to the video function. He manages this fairly well, only fumbling once or twice as the buttons prove difficult. It's something he's gotten used to, though, remembering which button he needs to push to get the function that he wants, but sometimes, he doesn't mesh well with technology. At least today, it seems to be cooperating.]

Morning. [He smiles in the direction of the screen.] It feels like it's going to be a nice day, doesn't it?

[He can't really tell by looking, of course, but there's something in the air that makes him feel like today's going to turn into a pleasant one.]

Listen, I'm going to be in the kitchen for awhile if anyone wants to stop by. You might even get some food out of it if you do.

[He's cooking for more than one person, because in his experience, the smell of food acts as quite the powerful lure, and really, it's a win/win all around. They get fed, he gets some company for a little while, and if they hit it off, an enjoyable conversation might end up happening.

And if they don't hit it off, well, sometimes that happens too. But whether they get along or not, it's not about that for him. Having someone else around to talk to, even if they're the grouchiest person on earth, really helps Blaine out in ways he never thought possible.

He puts on a brave face most of the time, but not being able to see definitely has its pitfall moments. He's come a long way in terms of taking care of himself, but the adjustment part of things is something he has to wrestle with on a daily basis.]

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Only always. [ says buffy, taking a heavy seat at the table, tugging at her pyjamas self-consciously. she maybe should have put on real clothes to harass a stranger for food. hindsight, and all that. ] Who's cooking?

[ there, not strangers anymore. problem solved. ]

Great answer. [He grins broadly at her before glancing back at the stove and his cooking. It doesn't bother him that she's there in her PJs. It's not like he can see what she's wearing, anyway, but even if he could, he wouldn't judge.]

I'm Blaine. It's nice to meet you, um... [He pauses, waiting for her to supply her name.]

[ he's blind anyways but just pretend she had brown hair all along shhhhh ]

Buffy. [ she says the word like it has no vowels in it, hugging her knees up to her chest as she waits for food. the blind guy can totally cook her food - she won't even ask. ]

[Hey, this works out perfectly. She could have purple hair and he wouldn't even notice. ~~She'd probably rock purple hair too, by the way.~~]

Hey, Buffy. [He grins and goes back to finishing up his cooking. It doesn't take him long, though, and within five minutes or less, there are two steaming plates of scrambled eggs sitting on the table.

He makes his way over to join her, but then he pauses.]

Do you drink coffee or anything like that?

[No, he's not playing host, not at all.]

[ next event, purple hair. you got it. ]

Drink coffee? Did you really just ask me that? Does a leopard have spots?

[ she shakes her head before she remembers - again, that he can't see her. this is going to take some getting used to. ]

And by that I mean yes. A whole-hearted empty-bellied 'yes' for all that is caffeinated and life-bringing.

I would breathe coffee if it was biologically possible.

[He'll hold you to that.]

Well, I don't know, some people drink tea.

Give me a second, and I'll get you some. [Luckily for her, he had a pot brewed already in case a coffee drinker like herself stopped by.]

How do you take it?

[They're going to be great friends; he can tell already, and the mutual liking for coffee is only part of it.]

Very, very sweet. And creamy. Like... coffee-flavored milk, more than actual coffee.

Please.

You got it. [He grabs one of several mugs that he'd set out on the counter, pours the coffee, and adds in the extras, hoping it comes out just the way she wants it.]

Let me know if that's not good enough, and I'll try again.

I'm sure it's... [ she takes a sip and makes a face, sliiiiding the coffee away gently. ] fine.

So Blaine, what's for breakfast? [ she covers quickly. ] You don't hear that name much. Blaine. Not that Buffy's the epitome of commoninity or anything.

[He doesn't see the face she makes, but he can hear the cup sliding away.] It's not good, is it?

[He figures it makes sense; he can't be good at everything.]

Eggs, but I can make something else, if you don't like those.

[Might as well make the offer.]

And yeah, it's not really a common name. My parents liked it, though, I guess. I like yours too, by the way.

It's perfect. [ she wrapped her hands around the mug and scowled. ]

I've always liked it. My name--not yours. I don't really know if I've ever met a 'Blaine' before you. Maybe.

[ she thought about eggs and was rocketed back to making them for dawn. breakfast foods were pretty much the only foods that weren't frozen that buffy could make with any sort of skill. the memory made her sick. she has to snap out of it-- ] How do you feel about, pancakes?

Okay.

[She doesn't sound pleased, but he's just going to hope it's not too terribly bad.]

It's a nice name. Is it a nickname or something?

[He just can't remember meeting any Buffys before.]

Pancakes are good. Did you want some?

Nope. That's the whole shebang. B-u-f-f-y and that's that. That's all I got.

[ her mouth feels dry and she hazards another sip of coffee. it's drinkable anyway. just not the way she likes it. she knows she's being a baby and makes herself take another sip before answering. ]

Yes, please. With blueberries. Lots of. [ her tone is bright here, in sharp contrast to her previous bedraggled tone. she knew how to get what she wanted from who she wanted when she wanted it -- it wasn't something she was proud of, but it was all she had left. ]

Edited 2013-08-26 03:17 (UTC)

Well, I like it, Buffy.

[He smiles and heads over to the nearest cupboard to pull out the things he'll need for the dry ingredients portion of your typical blueberry pancakes recipe.

And then when those are set out on the counter, he heads over to get some more eggs and fresh blueberries.]

It shouldn't take me too long, I hope. Why don't you tell me something about yourself while I'm cooking?

My mom would appreciate that. If she were alive. [ said like it's no big thang. sister and mom in one year. lucky her. except she blamed herself for both of them. ]

Me? I'm not that interesting. Your typical ex-coed with bills to pay and no payage to you know, bill. This stupid place is almost a reprieve from -- well, I don't have to tell you how down in the dumps this economy is. You seem like a smart kid.

Your mom's-

[He stops what he's doing and frowns.]

I'm really sorry to hear that, Buffy.

[ she nods, looking down at the table. she definitely hadn't been looking for sympathy. ]

It's okay. I mean, it's not, but that's life.

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