Silence | Book 2

1-11: Study Sunday

Tristan stirred in the bed, his fingers grasping at the pillow before he rolled over and sighed deeply now he had to acknowledge he was awake. He wanted to go back to sleep, but the smell of food hit him: baked meat, something toasted like bread or pancakes – slightly burnt. Disoriented, he sat up, his mind confused but his stomach intrigued. The blanket slid off of his chest, and he realised he was still naked.

He wanted to cover himself up and looked around for his clothes but he didn't see them. Shite. He tried to lean in and peek over the edge of the railing. From his point of view, he couldn't see anything, only hear the sounds of sizzling, and awkward, slow chopping. A small part of him wanted to rush down there and take over, but it didn't bother him nearly enough to do that naked. Instead he quickly got up, and darted into the bathroom while there was nobody to see.

The clothes he'd taken off were still there, but they had been put into a heap on top of the counter. With a sigh he decided to take a quick shower first – he felt incriminatingly sticky – before dealing with his crumpled clothes.

After a very fast rinse, which was only to wash his body and shampoo his hair, he stepped out of the shower again. He dried himself off with one of the towels that hung on the towel rack. Figuring he didn't have much of a choice, he put the clothes from the day before back on. He tried to do the best he could, buttoning up the shirt and stuffing the ends in his trousers. With a sigh he ran a hand over the light stubble on his chin, wondering if he should bother with shaving, but then decided against it: he'd probably be better off shaving the next morning to get back into a routine.

With hasty, barefoot steps he moved down the stairs, the scent of burning still present and that worried him. He turned the corner into the kitchen, to see Hibiki wearing only a T-shirt, his underwear and glasses, trying his very best to make breakfast. Including pieces of slightly burnt toast, and overdone bacon.

The bacon was still in the pan, sizzling a bit too hard, while Hibiki was cutting up half a cabbage – one rough chop at a time. He appeared exceptionally focused on it, the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he tried. There was an empty carton of eggs, and a dusting of flour all around a large bowl with a doughy mix. A little confused, Tristan tried to figure out how all those things would get together, but even his Polish heritage had no answer as to why eggs, flour and cabbage would go with bacon and toast. So he just turned down the stove and gave Hibiki a kiss on his cheek.

"Making breakfast?" He asked with a slight smile, while running a hand over Hibiki's shoulder.

A determined nod answered that question, and the awkward chopping continued. For the many things he was, a vegetable samurai wasn't one of them.

"Would you like me to help?"

Immediately Hibiki shook his head, and let out a frustrated huff to say that he knew what he was doing. With a quick kiss, he was pointed towards one of the chairs at the dining table. Tristan smiled and nodded, figuring he'd leave Hibiki to it.

Since it would take a while at the rate at which Hibiki was chopping, Tristan went over to his backpack and took out a few of his books and summaries. With headphones in, he laid them out and began to reconnect the dots and look them over again so he wouldn't miss anything. After all the studying he had done in the weeks before, he knew most, but he still found that there were details and small concepts that needed to work together better.

The smell of food, and the chopping were hard to tune out however. In truth he wanted to take over and help, but at the same time he was well aware that Hibiki wouldn't learn if he didn't let him – but the mix of ingredients frightened him somewhat.