fandomhigh | Home Ec, Tuesday, Period 1

"Right." Eliot clapped his hands. Too much had happened in too short an amount of time -- again -- and he was full of tightly controlled manic energy. "Today's project takes for freaking ever, so we're going to jump right in." He dropped a box onto the teacher's desk and pulled out a sack of flour, a canister of salt, a packet of yeast, a bowl, and a mug. "We're makin' bread."

He looked over the ingredients and rolled his eyes, then picked up the mug, spun it once around on his finger, and tore open the flour. "Nevermind that this process is so goddamn time consuming that almost no one in the modern era bothers doin' it themselves unless they got a machine or they get paid for it." He scooped out two and a half mugs full of flour and tossed them into the bowl. "At least the recipe we're workin' with is dead simple. It's also real specific that this ain't the kind of bread you punch and slam around when you're kneadin' it, but if that's what you're feelin' today -- I ain't gonna blame you a bit." He added the salt, yeast, and water and stuck his hands in. "You can use a spoon for the mixing if you like, but honestly, this stuff is gonna get all over your hands later anyway. Might as well dive right in the deep end right away." He looked up from the dough and around at the students. "The ingredients are on your tables, guys, get to it. Sooner you get it mixed, sooner you can goof off half the class while we let it rise. Then maybe I'll show y'all how to whip up a nice bruschetta to put on this stuff once it's all done."

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Lucille blushed a little, embarrassed that he had noticed. She quickly shifted her gaze to her own dough, holding up a sticky hand.

"I'm not sure I do."

"Would you care for some assistance?" he offered, setting his dough aside to rise. His favorite part of making bread was the part where he could ignore it for awhile to do more interesting things instead. "As a gentleman, 'tis my duty to help a lady out of whatever I can."

Like, say...clothing, for example. But difficulty with bread could also count.

Lucille felt she had an excuse, because she actually did need assistance. "Please," she said, smiling a little at Hyacinthe. "The dough refuses to be anything but sticky."

"It just needs a bit more warmth and attention," he said, joining Lucille at her station. "And then you'll find it is quite willing to do as requested. May I?"

He held his hands over the bowl, not wanting to plunge right in.

Lucille nodded towards the bowl. "Of course." She added: "Warmth and attention?"

"Of course," Hyacinthe said. "'Tis what brings out the best in all things. Now, do not be afraid to get your hands dirty. You'd be surprised how easily they wash off."

He slid his hands into the dough and struck up a rhythm. "And do not just use your hands, or they will get tired very quickly. Use your whole body if you need."

Lucille dug her fingers into the dough again, her knuckles accidentally nudging Hyacinthe's as she tried to copy his rhythm. She was quite unaware that she had flour in her hair.

Smiling a little, she said: "Have you done this often then?"

Hyacinthe thought it was incredibly charming. She appeared too often the proper miss; she needed someone to muss her from time to time.

He linked his fingers with hers as they brushed past, shifting closer so he could wrap an arm around her and place his hands atop hers, did she allow it. All the better to show her how it was done, of course!

"Many times," he agreed. "Usually in the winter. In summer and fall, the harvest is good and bread is cheap. But in the winter, the price of flour becomes dear and baked bread is dearer still. Becomes cheaper to make the bread ourselves and bake it in our own oven."

Hyacinthe was very welcome to wrap his arms around her. Had she thought about it perhaps Lucille would have been surprised how relaxed she had become around him. Perhaps sh was beginning to occasionally notice kindness, at least when it was to her advantage.

Such as when he helped her to make bread in this way.

"At home snow storms sometimes make roads hard to travel during the winter. Making bread might prove useful." Lucille blushed a little, realizing that she had more or less told him they would not be able to afford servants when she returned home.

If he noticed the slip, he didn't react to it. Of course, having servants wasn't his first assumption anyway.

"Ah, then you get a lot of snow then?" he asked, his arms warm around her. His hands slipped over hers, guiding her into the rhythm of kneading the dough to make sure it was properly mixed before stretching. ~~Somewhere, Unchained Melody started playing~~ "Not so in the City of Elua. We get some snow each winter, though it lasts maybe a week at the coldest before melting away again."

~~Mmm cheesy music.~~

"We get snow and cold rains," Lucille said, shivering a little and definitely not from cold, and letting Hyacinthe guide her hands. "Tell me more about Elua?"

"The city?" Hyacinthe asked, stepping just the tiniest bit closer, so his chest brushed against her back as they kneaded. "Or the founder of Terre D'Ange?"

"I meant the city," Lucille said. "But you are welcome to tell me about both."

The closeness was nice. Perhaps this was what she needed?

Home Ec, Tuesday, Period 1

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