Lead & Follow

Frappé

Part 1: Lead

Seventeenth Movement, Frappé

Frappé

(French pronunciation: [fʁape]; 'struck.') Abbreviation of battement frappé. Action of extending the working foot out from cou-de-pied.

(From Wikipedia)

🖤🤍

Your slippered feet strike the cool floor tile of the lodge foyer in soft footfalls. It's later than you'd normally stay up, but perhaps the unfamiliar scenery makes it difficult to sleep.

For the most part, the foyer looks abandoned. There are still plenty of crackling embers in the massive fireplace, though, so you're sure there is an attendant somewhere nearby.

Your goal in coming here is rooted in the complimentary refreshment counter tucked into a corner of the room where, blessedly, an electric tea kettle awaits. In your own room, there's a coffee pot and a couple of single-serves of instant coffee packets, but, truthfully, you're jonesing to try out their smorgasbord of novelty teas. After all, they're free .

When you pass closer to the counter you are only a little bit surprised to scout a familiar head of dual-toned hair.

"Can't sleep?" you question softly, and your boyfriend turns to smile warmly at you.

"You might've guessed," he murmurs slyly, "But I'm a bit of a night owl."

" Shocking," you tease, and Baxter turns back to the counter. He takes the steaming kettle and pours boiling liquid into a generic white mug. The tiny green rectangle which dangles from his cup suggests that he too is a connoisseur of hot leaf water. "What'd you pick?"

"Peppermint," he reveals, and then he turns to glance at you again. "Are you of the same mind?"

"Perhaps," you agree, and you edge closer to the little variety box beside the kettle. "I was thinking chamomile to help me sleep, but if you're up too I'm willing to deviate from the plan."

"They've got a lot of classics, though the only caffeinated choice looks to be Breakfast Tea," Baxter informs you as he scoots his mug out of the way. "You know, I'm not sure if I'm a bad influence, or if we're both a couple of enablers."

You tap a finger to your chin and pretend to give it some proper thought before you grin mischievously, "Definitely enablers."

"Yes," he snorts, "I thought as much. Well, we haven't gone off the rails yet, so I believe we should be fine."

"Here's hoping," you joke, and you come to a decision. "I think I'll have some hot chocolate. Milk goes better, but I think it suits the fall vibes."

"Delightful," Baxter responds, and he wordlessly sets about preparing your beverage.

"You don't have to make my drink for me," you remark, though you find the gesture touching.

Baxter freezes, mid-pour of the chocolate packet into a clean mug. He scoffs, "It appears we find ourselves out to drinks yet again, [Name]. I promise that I do other things in my spare time, occasionally."

"You say that as if I'd critique you for the human need to hydrate, Baxter Ward," you roll your eyes at him playfully.

After your drink is poured and stirred with a plastic spoon, he slides it over to you.

"I was thinking that a fireside chat would be pleasant," he suggests and gestures to the large stonework perch at the base of the fire.

"Sounds lovely," you agree, and you smile into your cup.