"I'd like that. To try that. Date, get to know each other. All of that." He has another sip of his drink with a smile. "I'll miss you too. Even if it won't be long. But we have...time. Five months." It seems like a long time and somehow not long at all.
Ed squeezed his hand before letting go so he could more properly finish his meal.
"Well, then, let's have this be the first of many," he declared, lifting his glass in a toast. When he returned, mother would be so pleased to know he wasn't seeing any painted ladies. He wasn't sure how pleased she'd be to know he was seeing a man, but she'd be very happy Ed wasn't a woman out to tear him away from her. So, points on that side.
He doubts that even he could tear Oswald away from his mother. And he doubts he'd even try, honestly. He knows how bad off Oswald was when he lost her. He wouldn't even dare to try.
"You know, we could try cooking something together over the weekend." Since he won't be working at the morgue, he assumes. And there isn't really anything happening that he's aware of.
"Oh... you don't think I'd get in your way?" Oswald had only really attempted to cook when Ed wasn't there to do it. Ed was by far the better chef. And he was feeling rather spoiled because of it. He liked the feeling.
"I mean, I'd love to. But I've seen you cook. You... you're great at it."
"In the way? No, not at all. It could be..." What's the word he wants here. Hmm. "Fun?" But, a smile at the compliment. "Thank you. I like it. Cooking. For you. I didn't cook as much before you arrived." Cooking for yourself is hardly as interesting.
"If you want to, then yes," he agreed, feeling a bit giddy. The night had gone well. Was going well.
"Maybe you can teach me a few things. Mother was more of a traditionalist in a lot of ways. She insisted on cooking. I only learned a little from her and if it wasn't cookies or something I could lick the spoon after, she'd shoo me out of the kitchen so I wouldn't try to eat it too soon. But some of the simpler stuff, things from the 'homeland', she did try to pass those down. So I'd have some connection to my roots."
Hence the soup he'd made his first night here and a few of the other things since.
"That was kind of her," he remarks. He fiddles with his fork before eating a little more of the fish. "I'm sure I could teach you a few things about cooking. Or, at the very least, we can make some cookies." And he'll even let Oswald lick the spoon.
Already, he is trying to think of recipes that would be simple enough to teach or learn with the level of cooking skills Oswald has. Of course he is.
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"Well, then, let's have this be the first of many," he declared, lifting his glass in a toast. When he returned, mother would be so pleased to know he wasn't seeing any painted ladies. He wasn't sure how pleased she'd be to know he was seeing a man, but she'd be very happy Ed wasn't a woman out to tear him away from her. So, points on that side.
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"You know, we could try cooking something together over the weekend." Since he won't be working at the morgue, he assumes. And there isn't really anything happening that he's aware of.
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"I mean, I'd love to. But I've seen you cook. You... you're great at it."
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"Maybe you can teach me a few things. Mother was more of a traditionalist in a lot of ways. She insisted on cooking. I only learned a little from her and if it wasn't cookies or something I could lick the spoon after, she'd shoo me out of the kitchen so I wouldn't try to eat it too soon. But some of the simpler stuff, things from the 'homeland', she did try to pass those down. So I'd have some connection to my roots."
Hence the soup he'd made his first night here and a few of the other things since.
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Already, he is trying to think of recipes that would be simple enough to teach or learn with the level of cooking skills Oswald has. Of course he is.