La Dogana del Buongusto, Milan, Italy; Friday [03/22].

[special_rabbit]

Amaya had never really thought of herself as much of a vacation kind of person; things like the school trips were nice and good for inspiration and new experiences, and she did like that aspect of it, but she always did get a little itchy and just wanted to get back to work in her shop, more often than not. But she was really starting to feel like this whole birthday holiday concept was something she could definitely get on board with.

Or maybe, just maybe, it had less to do with the company than it did the holiday itself.

Although, to be fair, the holiday itself had been pretty great, too. After their time in Rome, they headed north to Florence, which not only boasted all sorts of fascinating Renaissance-era science and history for Amaya to get far too wrapped up in, but also vineyard tours and wine-tasting and excellent food in the countryside. And then they headed even further north still until they landed here in Milan, where the fascination with contraptions could be switched out with fashion and Irene's turn to really be in her element. And later that evening, there would be a visit to some fancy theater for a fancy ballet, but for now? A little mid-day break in the Milan meanderings for lunch at a fancy restaurant that just so happened to have the promise of a big meat stick on its menu....

And trying not to think too much about how this whole journey was coming to an end, for...well, a whole bunch of reasons that Amaya was really not interested in examining too closely at all, if she could help it.

[[ for the fellow birthday vacationer and NFB for distance, of course~ ]]

Comments

[special_rabbit]

And Amaya hadn't even had a single opportunity to point out which of the two of them was the older! Although the temptation had been there, it was all about the perfect timing, and, alas, far more interesting things had successfully managed to snag her attention throughout.

She still had a few more days where she could flaunt her youth officially, though!

"Gladio," she said with nod, without even needing to think about it. "You know, because of his name."

Yes, island, you were hilarious.

There was also Boc, but Amaya, like most people, didn't even know who that was.

"If you do turn into rice," Amaya then mused, "I'll make sure no one cooked or ate you. Or threw you out."

Pfft. And here she thought she didn't do romance!

[begmetwice]

Honestly, Miss Island Clotheshorse here really needed to introduce herself to the island seamster. It was kind of a crime she hadn't already been through all that.

"Aw, Amaya." That warranted a slightly-dramatic touch to Amaya's wrist, Irene's other hand flying to her heart to cover it as though touched. "You do care."

You could say things like that, after a romantic week in Italy spent banging each others' brains out. Maybe under those conditions, one could playfully, even sarcastically, point out that perhaps there was an element of affection between them.

Maybe.

[special_rabbit]

One actually could, and you'd think that the week preceding it might have bolstered the receiving party against almost instantly feeling a flood of red over that little overdramatic brush of fingers against her wrist like that, but you would be terribly wrong.

And were she anyone else, Amaya might have snagged up a rather easy and boisterous, obvious response that leaned into the eating of it all, but she wasn't, so there was a slightly awkward grin instead.

"Yeah, well," she said, "it's the least I could do, and I'd only hope you'd do the same for me and all..."

[begmetwice]

A similar line of discussion had also occurred to Irene, for the record.

"Oh, yes, I would definitely make sure no one took advantage of you," Irene promised, eyes sparkling all the more at that blush. (Two years and change in, too, and she could still make that happen. There was something special and beautiful about that, too.) "No one eating you on my watch."

A pause, a smirk as Irene casually cast her eyes down at her menu again. "No one else, anyway," she added, soft enough to be just for Amaya's ears.

See? But there could also be room for just a touch of deadly sentiment, and maybe the barest bit of -- possessiveness wasn't the right word, not at all. Maybe more like a sort of...faintly smug, relaxed pride.

[special_rabbit]

You could tell the exact moment Amaya's brain made the switch from some kind of endearing cannibalism to the actual intent in the moment that blush deepened dramatically. But so did her smirk, even with a small part of her lip caught between her teeth as she looked over at Irene.

"Well," she finally stated, that red somehow finding a deeper shade still, despite the defiance in her lifted chin against it, "then, that's dessert squared away..."

Look, the other comment was going to be pointing out that she didn't think she'd fit on your watch, anyway, Irene, eschewing a pun that good was a noble sacrifice.

[begmetwice]

She would fit if she was a grain of rice!

But the surest way to get Irene to blush too was to volley the flirtation right back at her, and as such, there was a definite pinkness to her cheeks and the tip of her nose that definitely wasn't attributable to a week's worth of Italian sunshine.

"See, that's smart of you," she noted, her tone striving for the casual observation of a fact as one of her feet lightly found its way around Amaya's ankle under the table. "Better to have something in the room rather than risk being late for the ballet later."

Or, you know, up their chances of not making it out the door at all, who could say.

[special_rabbit]

"Mmm, yeah," Amaya agreed, after the smallest intake of breath when foot met ankle, "we definitely wouldn't want to miss that."

Amaya, shockingly, would be emphatically okay if they actually did miss that, even if for reasons entirely not....erm, extended dessert related!

"Should probably get in our orders then," she added, in more thoughtful displays of that smartness at work, "so we don't have to rush."

[begmetwice]

"You're getting the giant thing on the stick, then?" Irene surmised, and you know, if you looked, that could have probably been wound into a more impressive innuendo, too? But there was a part of Irene that worried that if she ventured too close to the meats-on-sticks suggestions, she might end up with them literally in her bed.

And, like, she could make that work, but....

[special_rabbit]

But, don't you see? That was the beauty of meat-on-a-stick! It could so easily be incorporated into any situation!

"I'm getting the giant thing on the stick," Amaua confirmed with a nod, because she was nothing if not committed to a bit. And it had been the reason this restaurant won out over so many countless others.

"Will you be running the risk of rice with the risotto?"

Hey, she'd already sacrificed a pun, she should at least get some alliteration!

[begmetwice]

"Well, now that I have your reassurances," Irene contributed, and look at that playing-along, right there! "I think I might run the risk, yes. Someone once told me fortune favors the bold, and all that."

Though honestly ordering risotto on vacation rather fell low on the list of bold things Irene had done.

"D'you want to try ordering in Italian?" she offered, curious. It had been fortunate that most people in these major cities seemed to keep accented English in their back pocket, but Irene also couldn't help loving the way the language sounded in general, let alone hearing it from her favorite...blacksmith.

[special_rabbit]

Amaya's nose wrinkled a little at the question, frowning somewhat doubtfully at the menu now. She didn't really have a whole lot of confidence in sounding confident when using other languages, but what was she going to do? Say no right after a reference to her own psuedo-catch-phrase about being bold?

"I s'pose," she said, now marching all the limited Italian she'd known or picked up on here or there or could even just read right there on the menu, "I could always try, though if that lands me with something completely different on my plate, then that's on you."

Though, really, she supposed it wouldn't be too difficult to mess up 'grosso bastone di carne' without embarrassing herself too much, but, then again....you never knew.

[begmetwice]

"I'll spot you," Irene assured her with a little wave of her hand, which she turned into a delicate hail to get their server's attention. "Same way you've always kept me from putting my eye out in the forge, yeah? I wouldn't let you not get the meat-stick, love, promise."

And again, that was almost -- you know, a whole feeling that wasn't necessarily about this but about a whole larger context -- but also, sincerely, Irene would eat her own hair before she just sat by and watched Amaya not get the giant meat-stick-thing.

[special_rabbit]

Amaya could point out that Irene hardly needed her help at all with that, really, but if she just ended up quibbling over the finer details, than that would only serve to delay her meat-on-a-stick.

And dessert.

"Alright," she said, "I'll try. But you're going first."

As soon as she said it, though, she regretted it, because she really should have seized the opportunity with both hands and wrangled her broken piecemeal magpie Italian into submission and made it work for her without hesitation, but the awkward self-doubt had claimed it first. Zards.

"You're much better at it than me," she said, chin lifted defiantly, hoping that could justify it.

[begmetwice]

"Well, I studied languages in school for years," Irene pointed out, her smile softening just a little bit as the server in question made their way over. "Hardly fair to compare. You've been marvelous."

Granted, a lot of her study had been conducted in her post-educational career and less in classrooms than bedrooms, but that was neither here nor there, was it?

However, that foot of Irene's snaked its way around Amaya's ankle again, even as Irene beamed up at their server and pleasantly placed her order, with a side of also making sure to mention how impressed they both were with the menu. The footsie now was less a prelude to dessert, and more intended as -- well, yet again, something like a held hand, but maybe a touch more discreet. The way she spoke relatively slowly and clearly, too, was a little bit of a concession, intended to make it less intimdating, but one she didn't mind making.

[special_rabbit]

And if the intention of that metaphorical hand holding was to be reassuring and encouraging, then it passed muster with flying colors. There was still the return of another march of red shades across Amaya's cheeks, but the hues were, like the connection itself, subtly different. A sort of gratitude, and relief, though the telltale pigments of the thrill of it all remained steady and strong.

Listening carefully, Amaya then nodded, murmuring out a sort of basic agreement with what she was pretty sure was a positive assessment of the menu, and followed suit, her attempts to accent it just making her almost aggressively American-despite-not-being-American drawl somehow more pronounced.

And she accidentally used 'largo' instead of 'grosso', but, in her defense, the foot on her ankle was reassuring, but also distracting, and she did gesture along with the order to help clarify any missteps.