[The hand in his sends warmth through Atem: it is sweet and good, and he can't really describe how fond it makes him feel. His eyes, lit up (metaphorically, not with an infernal glow), rest on Ryou's face.
They're just two monsters doing their best to get by in a horror game, and when Ryou looks at him happily, Atem feels like he's winning it.]
Well, I can only really cook one thing...
[He leads Ryou by the hand to the little table off the kitchen, where a sizeable hunk of slow-cooked someone is sitting tender and marinated in front of the seat Ryou takes most often. It looks a lot like steak, sliced up into even sections, presented in the center of the plate with chopped green scallions garnishing it. There's a smaller plate of bread next to it and a glass and a few things to drink (wine? softer cider? lemon-lime club soda?) closer to the center if the table, but cooking vegetables and making them taste good is beyond what Atem's capable of. He's quite serious about what he just said -- he only knows how to do "person." There's not even eggs.
(There are eggs, just, absolutely fuckwrecked and inedible, and disposed of. An attempt was made, but he flew too close to the sun.)
no subject
They're just two monsters doing their best to get by in a horror game, and when Ryou looks at him happily, Atem feels like he's winning it.]
Well, I can only really cook one thing...
[He leads Ryou by the hand to the little table off the kitchen, where a sizeable hunk of slow-cooked someone is sitting tender and marinated in front of the seat Ryou takes most often. It looks a lot like steak, sliced up into even sections, presented in the center of the plate with chopped green scallions garnishing it. There's a smaller plate of bread next to it and a glass and a few things to drink (wine? softer cider? lemon-lime club soda?) closer to the center if the table, but cooking vegetables and making them taste good is beyond what Atem's capable of. He's quite serious about what he just said -- he only knows how to do "person." There's not even eggs.
(There are eggs, just, absolutely fuckwrecked and inedible, and disposed of. An attempt was made, but he flew too close to the sun.)
Bread and steak will have to do.]
...but I'm pretty good at it.