Both girls knew that this was going to end up being a Mistake. Even before things started going wrong, as Luci knotted her apron slowly in an attempt to defuse her nervous energy, she fidgeted. And it was that fidgeting that began this cloud of trouble—one that would eventually become a literal cloud, flour now covering both girls and everything in the immediate proximity of the mixer.
Hacking, coughing and sputtering, Luci let out an exasperated groan. Can't they just give up already, Harper? She was a lost cause. ]
I'm not making a face!
[ She was making a face.
A gentle huff, she let Harper take her chin, looking very much like a child who had been caught doing something wrong, expecting scolding. Apologetic, guilty. ]
[ Holding Luci's chin firmly between her thumb and the curled flat of her index finger, she dutifully begins wiping off the flour coating. Granted, some of the stuff is still settling, powdery swirls visible in the later afternoon light coming in through the window. Harper swears it's worse than glitter, and Harper knows a thing or two about glitter. With the cloth folded to a triangle edge, she dabs and swipes with laser-like precision.
Also very gently, but she's trying to appear authoritative, all the same. ]
If I'm not giving up on you, you can't give up on you.
[ With an expression akin to a cat having just gotten a bath, she begrudgingly lets Harper have her way, although not without looking absolutely dreadful about it. It's on her face, on her clothes, in her hair. All of this screamed Bad Idea That Had Been Waiting To Happen. She was trying to give you an out, bestie. And... well, give herself one too, because honestly her talent was in eating sweets, not making them. ]
I know, but—
[ "No buts!" She could hear her saying it already and, immediately backing down, Luci exhaled. ]
I'm not good at this. I'm never going to be good at this. I don't have a talent for things like this like you do. All I'm going to do is end up messing up your kitchen more than I already have.
Excuse me, Lucianna. My kitchen is tougher than it looks, thank you.
[ Which isn't exactly a rebuttal to Luci's self-deprecation, but it is full of enough girly spite to hopefully drop that argument where it stands. Her motions even out after that, gently dabbing and swiping every patch of white that she can get to. Eyebrows, cheekbones, the curve of her upper lip. Once Harper is satisfied that Luci isn't going to make a break for it, she releases her chin with a sigh.
The fact that she's more preoccupied with the state of her friend than she is with the state of her poor countertop is indicative enough without her having to stoop to point it out. ]
What's made you so nervous about this, anyway?
[ Besides the obvious.
Not like they ever bring up the Burning Spatula Incident of 2012... ]
[ That might be true, but she didn't want a repeat of the Springfrom Pan Fiasco of 2014. The Home Ec room was never the same after that...
Luci was well aware of how much of a kitchen disaster she was, and truthfully she wouldn't have gone with this if she didn't have something in mind. Being in the kitchen was like a special circle of Hell for her, a constant reminder of her imperfections and the fact that she could be so bad at something.
And maybe she had ridiculous expectations for herself, but... ]
Eh?
[ With a fluttered blink, the blond looked up toward the ceiling.
(Busted) ]
What? Me, nervous? Harper, you know me! I'm never nervous about anything!
[ Several things flicker over Harper's face. The speed of it is actually impressive — realization, disbelief, exasperation. All of which flatten out into a single expression that takes a turn for the dramatic. She drops her hands, clutching the cloth between them. It always was her kind of flair. ]
Aa~h. We've been friends for so long, Lucianna Edwards. And still, you think you can get away with lying to me...
[ BREAK HER HEART, WHY DON'T YOU. Harper's fists ball, arms crooking in a flourish so she can place them judgmentally on her hips. All she does is stare for a long, drawn out moment. Think about what you've done, young lady.
Granted, the effect is probably somewhat dulled by the fact that she's also still covered in flour.
But who's counting, really. ]
Don't I deserve a "not complete" truth, then? You still didn't answer my question.
[ Oh. Oh Luci knew that look, her hands placed firmly on her hips, staring her down. Weighing her down with ten tons of guilt, just because she didn't want to embarrass herself by telling Harper the real reason why she was being so cagey. She didn't want to think about what she did, because if she did...
Wincing outwardly, Luci tries to disguise it with a smile. ]
[ For as long as they've known one another, she'd better know that look. Likewise, Harper knows a weapons grade deflection when she sees one. The only difference between Luci and everyone else in the world is that it actually works. Puffing a sigh, her posture unlocks. ]
I never said that. [ Turning on her heel, she makes for the kitchen sink to wash out the cloth she'd been using. ] I'm just never going to get to the bottom of this if I don't know why.
[ She may be wringing the cloth a little more... forcefully... than necessary.
Look, she has to have an outlet of some kind for her failed bravado. ]
Hasn't it been long enough?
[ Haven't enough good kitchen appliances fallen. ]
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no subject
Both girls knew that this was going to end up being a Mistake. Even before things started going wrong, as Luci knotted her apron slowly in an attempt to defuse her nervous energy, she fidgeted. And it was that fidgeting that began this cloud of trouble—one that would eventually become a literal cloud, flour now covering both girls and everything in the immediate proximity of the mixer.
Hacking, coughing and sputtering, Luci let out an exasperated groan. Can't they just give up already, Harper? She was a lost cause. ]
I'm not making a face!
[ She was making a face.
A gentle huff, she let Harper take her chin, looking very much like a child who had been caught doing something wrong, expecting scolding. Apologetic, guilty. ]
...Sorry. But I told you this was a lost cause.
no subject
[ Holding Luci's chin firmly between her thumb and the curled flat of her index finger, she dutifully begins wiping off the flour coating. Granted, some of the stuff is still settling, powdery swirls visible in the later afternoon light coming in through the window. Harper swears it's worse than glitter, and Harper knows a thing or two about glitter. With the cloth folded to a triangle edge, she dabs and swipes with laser-like precision.
Also very gently, but she's trying to appear authoritative, all the same. ]
If I'm not giving up on you, you can't give up on you.
no subject
I know, but—
[ "No buts!" She could hear her saying it already and, immediately backing down, Luci exhaled. ]
I'm not good at this. I'm never going to be good at this. I don't have a talent for things like this like you do. All I'm going to do is end up messing up your kitchen more than I already have.
[ She has a talent for that, at least. ]
no subject
[ Which isn't exactly a rebuttal to Luci's self-deprecation, but it is full of enough girly spite to hopefully drop that argument where it stands. Her motions even out after that, gently dabbing and swiping every patch of white that she can get to. Eyebrows, cheekbones, the curve of her upper lip. Once Harper is satisfied that Luci isn't going to make a break for it, she releases her chin with a sigh.
The fact that she's more preoccupied with the state of her friend than she is with the state of her poor countertop is indicative enough without her having to stoop to point it out. ]
What's made you so nervous about this, anyway?
[ Besides the obvious.
Not like they ever bring up the Burning Spatula Incident of 2012... ]
no subject
Luci was well aware of how much of a kitchen disaster she was, and truthfully she wouldn't have gone with this if she didn't have something in mind. Being in the kitchen was like a special circle of Hell for her, a constant reminder of her imperfections and the fact that she could be so bad at something.
And maybe she had ridiculous expectations for herself, but... ]
Eh?
[ With a fluttered blink, the blond looked up toward the ceiling.
(Busted) ]
What? Me, nervous? Harper, you know me! I'm never nervous about anything!
[ You're also a horrible liar, Luci. ]
Well, not that nervous!
no subject
Aa~h. We've been friends for so long, Lucianna Edwards. And still, you think you can get away with lying to me...
[ Shame. Shaaaaame. ]
no subject
[ Luci, you just hesitated. Harper was going to see right through that! And seeing that trademark Harper overreaction, her eyebrow twitched a bit. ]
...Not a complete lie!
[ Don't press her don't press her please don't press her. ]
no subject
Granted, the effect is probably somewhat dulled by the fact that she's also still covered in flour.
But who's counting, really. ]
Don't I deserve a "not complete" truth, then? You still didn't answer my question.
no subject
Wincing outwardly, Luci tries to disguise it with a smile. ]
I'm not allowed to be nervous?
[ Yep, she's turning this around on her. ]
no subject
I never said that. [ Turning on her heel, she makes for the kitchen sink to wash out the cloth she'd been using. ] I'm just never going to get to the bottom of this if I don't know why.
[ She may be wringing the cloth a little more... forcefully... than necessary.
Look, she has to have an outlet of some kind for her failed bravado. ]
Hasn't it been long enough?
[ Haven't enough good kitchen appliances fallen. ]