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Dani sighs as she walks up the steps to Malcolm’s loft, hip sore and lips firmed into a pout when she finally reaches his door. She knocks insistently, adjusting the crumpled container in her arm and gives Bright a face when he opens up his apartment to her. He smirks and then covers his mouth when he feels like he might get in trouble, eyes grazing over her form and yeah, she’s well aware that she looks a mess.
“Did you get into a fight with the abominable snowman on your way here?”
Dani grunts in response and walks past him, her heeled booties clicking noisily against his polished wood floors. She sets the destroyed pie on his kitchen counter, taking a few moments to acknowledge that he’s got a table set up with plates, side dishes, and candles for their Thanksgiving date. Not only that but the entire apartment smells like warm cinnamon and she really hopes that he’s baked something because clearly she can’t be trusted to bring one dessert.
“I slipped on black ice crossing the street.”
Bright closes the door and approaches her when she takes off her coat, taking it from her to hang up. She winces and rubs her hip bone, trying to shake the latent chill from her body thanks to the snow and landing in the middle of the street. She’s lucky she didn’t get side-swiped from a car.
“I told you that you need boots with actual tread on them.” Bright says, one of his hands settling on her waist. His eyes assess her, dig a little underneath her skin and create patches of warmth that bloom without her control.
“Now is really not the time to lecture me.” She scrunches her nose, Malcolm’s fingers gently rubbing at her side at a sneaky attempt to pull her closer.
He smirks sheepishly, “Sorry.” He glances over at the pie on the counter and she follows that line of sight.
“Yeah, I’m afraid the pie took the brunt of it.”
Malcolm slowly lifts the lid to assess the damage, “Did you bake it?” And she knows the tone there, the fact that he’s asking and trying to offer a silver lining because it’s not so much of a loss that way.
This time she smacks his arm on principle and Bright laughs and steps away before she can get another hit in, “Ouch, hey.”
“Yes, I baked it but I had assistance thanks to Edrisa so I know it was at least edible.”
He moves around the island counter in the kitchen and bends to check something in the oven, adjusting the timer on his stove accordingly. He doesn’t even look guilty as he smiles at her, crossing his arms in a probable expensive sweater when he leans against the counter.
“I may have made an extra pie, just in case.”
She groans, running a hand over her face. “I hate Thanksgiving.”
Malcolm laughs this time, outright, “We could celebrate Lammas instead if you'd rather.”
Dani shakes her head, leaning both of her elbows on the counter. “Do I even want to know what that is?” And it’s a big lie, by the way, that she doesn’t like Thanksgiving. She thinks is a bit too commercial, like every holiday kind of is, but she does like it. Not more than Halloween or Christmas but the idea of gathering around the table with people she’s thankful for? What’s not to love about that?
She’s already had a small family dinner, even though it desperately makes her miss her father, and her work family at Gil’s but…tonight with Bright? This is something new and different and it scares her as much as it excites her. This thing between them is still so fresh, vulnerable, fragile—she’s just trying to take it all in one step at a time.
“It means loaf mass.”
Dani blinks, looking over at Malcolm as he interrupts her thoughts. He begins to round the corner of the island and she stands, turning to look at him. “What?”
He chuckles, “Lammas? It's a pagan holiday but it implies a crop-based festival and feast of thanksgiving. Grains and bread.”
She scrunches her nose even though she’s smiling, “Please tell me you at least have mashed potatoes.”
Bright slowly wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. Her hands rest against the soft, wool knit of his maroon sweater, “I know better than to let you into this apartment without a starch.”
Dani grins and presses herself up on her toes, her lips grazing his as her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m thankful for you.” She whispers.
Malcolm smiles, nuzzling their noses, “Even when I offer uninvited useless information?”
“Do you offer any other kind?” She teases, “But yeah, even then.”
He nods slowly and she can tell there’s something brewing on his face, another set of comments that he’s practically bursting to share, “Good because, actually, Lammas is also known as Lughnasadh in the autumnal equinox but it's not nearly as fun to say—”
Dani shakes her head and successfully cuts him off with a kiss.