(oh wait i think i'm confused. his criminal record is as James, not as Ior. For some reason I forgot James was also a criminal lol)
The sudden contact startled her, and for a split second she prepared to attack him. Then she found herself enjoying the hug, which was somehow worse. She decided to settle in between, resigning herself to the hug with an eye roll and a half-fond, half-annoyed, "Don't get all sappy on me. It's just groceries."
(Wait no his criminal record is with his alias, Ior. The only thing he technically did bad was join a gang, which made him get the alias.)
"But I want to thank you!" He exclaimed, and in a second the hug was over. He started on a pan and oiled it up with the olive oil she got him. "I didn't mean to startle you or anything. I just wanted to show my appreciation."
(then how do his finger prints register with a criminal record whaaaa)
She glanced away, trying to pretend she wasn't flustered. "Well, you're…you're welcome." She cleared her throat, trying to keep her tone normal even though her heart rate was not exactly settled. "Are you making that mushroom stuff you talked about yesterday?"
(James doesn't have a criminal record. Ior does.)
"Yep! And it's gonna be delicious and you're gonna love it make me make it every night," He hummed, wriggling happily and smiling. "Go sit somewhere. There's a really good soap opera on I think you'll like, I think you should watch it."
(I swear I'm not being purposefully dense lol but if James has never had a real job/never been arrested as James, his fingerprints shouldn't be connected to his real name/real identity?)
"I'm offended that you'd think I'd like soap operas," Nyir sighed, dragging a chair over to the counter and sitting down to watch him cook. She wasn't doing anything better, plus she wanted to make sure no one tried anything. If James was a wanted man, she needed to stay close by as much as possible.
(I don't even know anymore honestly.)
"I bet you would," James hummed happily, before starting on some food. He was blissfully unaware he was wanted as bad as he was. He just plunked some mushroom chicken into a big pan with olive oil and salt, humming happily as he set up plates. As far as he knew, he was just some guy who lost his memory. His name was James and he had no immediate family.
Nyir watched him cook, humming lightly to himself as though he hadn't a care in the world. She wished again that she could tell him everything. But now, with people seemingly after him to finish the job they'd started, she figured he'd be safer if she kept the truth from him. Deep down she knew she was lying to herself, and her continually growing lie was for her sake, not his. She shoved that truth further down, leaning her elbows against the counter and leaning her face on her hand. "Do you ever get bored around here?" she wondered. "I could bring you other things to do. Maybe you have a secret penchant for video games or something."
James pulled some curly fries from the freezer and started the oven for them, smiling to himself as he set down some wax paper she got for him. He was going to do so much baking!! He was really excited, but he wanted to wait until they finished their dinner.
"Bored? No! I enjoy watching TV and learning new recipes," He hummed happily. "But you're welcome to bring me stuff to do. Maybe I could try my hand at painting and fill your house up with pretty pictures. When I get good."
"Only if you're good at it." She joked, smirking, "Otherwise, I'll hang them on the fridge." She paused for a moment. "Are you making dessert tonight, too?"
"Oooh! A place on the fridge. That sounds even better!" He exclaimed happily, grinning ear-to-ear. "Yes I am making dessert. But I want to get started with this."
She almost pouted. "Dessert's the best part of the meal," she pointed out. She pushed herself away from the counter and located a bottle of whiskey. "Since I don't get dessert first, I'll have a drink." She had noticed for the past few…weeks, maybe months? Or even perhaps years, that it had been growing increasingly harder to get through an entire day without a drink.
"What part of drinking will make up for not getting dessert first?" He asked, thoroughly confused by her second sentence, but he gazed at her warily as she poured herself a glass of whiskey.
"Maybe you should lay off the drink for tonight. I'll make dessert now, how about that?" He proposed, really not wanting her to drink.
(phone typos, don't you love em? lol i fixed it)
(Oh that confused my dumb ape brain lmao)
(Alrighty done)
(lol its fine im the queen of typos)
Nyir continued to pour her drink. "I'm just teasing. I was likely going to have a drink anyway. It's just one." She cast a long look at him, unabashedly studying him. "Does it bother you?"
James itched the back of his head, looking pretty uncomfortable as he poked at the chicken. "I mean… I'd rather if you didn't drink, is all," He meekly answered with an equally as meek smile.
"Oh," she said, mildly surprised. She looked down at the whiskey glass in her hand. She hadn't really picked up the habit until after her boyfriend died. She'd never really thought about the quantity that she drank. "Can I ask why?"
James shrugged and glanced down at his feet with a soft sigh. "I just… don't really like how it makes you act. I like you when you're not drunk. When you're drunk, you seem just… too happy. But I like making you smile without it," He mumbled the last bit, shuffling his feet.
Nyir blinked. "That's…the most surprisingly sweet thing anyone's said to me in a while," she snorted. She twisted her lips, considering. She had the self-control, she was decently certain. With a nod, she placed the glass into the sink. "Fine, I suppose I'll lay off for a while."
James grinned a little at her decision, nodding happily. "Thank you! I really mean it, too. I like talking to you when you're sober. We have a lot of nice conversation. Anyway– um… what type of dessert would you like?"
Nyir smiled softly, glancing away. "I'm happy with anything sweet and baked."
"Awww, come on, you have to have an opinion," James gently protested as he pulled eggs out of the bags.
Nyir shrugged her shoulders, watching him. "Maybe chocolate cake? Or brownies. Or fudge. It's gotta be something better than whiskey, remember?"
“So something with chocolate in it?” James gently prompted as he pulled chocolate chips from the cabinet.