[ He'd meant for that to be a small pause in between drawing perfect icing lines, but now Sunday stops entirely to peer at Alisaie more intently.
It's not asked as sharply as her earlier questions - and as Sunday would've recognized as well deserved even without the guilt that's clouded over him ever since he walked out of the train car and left her behind. It could be a mere extension of the level of guilt he always tends to feel for so many things, but this is specific. Something deserved for actions for which he has no one to blame but himself, for here and before it.
Back in the present, however, her confusion seems quite genuine. And if that's the case, no wonder what was said wasn't really heard. ]
I'd call it an observation over implying anything.
[ But she's right that there is an implication in there and one she's apparently not seeing, even if he'd meant it as something far less severe than Alisaie seems to be taking this conversation. ]
Your friend is quite fond of you.
[ His actual point in a deliberate choice of words - and one he's careful to say quite neutrally. ]
[ If it makes him feel any better, he hadn't been the only one to walk away and leave her in a train car alone that trip. And to make matters worse both times had been after emotionally charged situations that have long since stayed with her after the fact. She had spoken about some her frustrations and experiences with Alphinaud of course, but to say that she had laid bygones to rest would be a gross understatement.
That was the downside to being to being passionate about things. It was just as difficult to forgive.
But clearly they weren't speaking about the same thing anymore. Or if they had she had seemed to have lost the thread somewhere along the way. Because why did it sound like they were suddenly speaking about Josuke's intentions? He had obviously been here to deliver a candygram sent by Jack who she considered a dear friend. There was nothing more to it than that. Confusion overtakes her expression, the bristle of her defensiveness lowering for just a moment as she almost laughs - ]
Fond? Whatever gave you that impression? [ Why did this suddenly feel akin to a time when she had teased Alphinaud about his endless swarm of fan club members? ] That was our third meeting. Second if you only count pleasant interactions.
I'm not so sure the number of interactions counts as much for everything else.
[ Neither does any pleasantries, really, when while that might define an initial meeting those that fall outside of whatever scale is being used for pleasant can add just as much to shaping a relationship overall. Experience has taught him that much.
Sunday's not going to say as much to Alisaie now when her confusion is indicator enough that they are, in fact, speaking on two entirely different wavelengths. It's tempting to put down the piping bag while they talk, but maybe that would suggest this is far more serious than it actually is. Besides that, there's no guarantee she won't simply turn and walk away any second now.
So, he raises an eyebrow. ]
I was not saying the fondness is a negative, either. That would only be the case if it was something you considered unwelcome. [ A short pause while Sunday considers this and everything else again and finds that, just maybe, he should've asked another question. ] What is it that doesn't give you that impression?
[ The irony here of course is that what Sunday is saying is in some ways, echoes of conversations she's had with Alphinaud. Sometimes it is a matter of her pointing out that such and such likes him, or wondering why he's suddenly so enamoured with someone he's only had one class with.
It hadn't, and still doesn't, occur to her that this is something that could happen to her. Nor is she connecting the dots and why Sunday's raised eyebrow only seems to incite a prickle of annoyance and heat to her cheeks. There's nothing to stop the rise of an incredulous tone beginning to rise in her voice. ]
Friends are fond of one another. Josuke and I are friends.
[ Finally she lets out a loud huff, putting the piping back on the counter in front of them. ]
I find myself confused because I cannot tell if you are trying to provoke me on purpose.
[ None of that feels exactly like an answer to what he's asking even as Alisaie responds with one thought first, then another, and then puts her piping bag down with the suggestion of frustration. Something he'd noticed was increasing without needing to 'listen' any other way; they've worked together long enough that Sunday knows the glimpses of her moods. A few huge baking tasks were certainly enough to create a bond from going through them. ]
Well, as long as it's mutual fondness, then.
[ Though this Sunday says with considerable amusement even as it answers nothing, but maybe that's all there is to it. It doesn't matter in the bigger picture, anyway, considering there's a good chance she might have to go through this conversation with any of the other bakery staff who'd stayed at the window before and after he'd made his own observations.
He's about to warn her about that being likely, but then it's Sunday's turn to be entirely confused by what she says when it catches him completely off-guard. ]
And why is it that you think I would be provoking you?
[ It's true he'd meant to tease her, but the way she's put it suggests something else. Though - there's an answer for why and one he has a feeling will be said with a mild sense of dread to it, and really: if it is what Alisaie will say next, then that's no one's fault but his own. ]
[ Considering where they are and that they are still on the clock, Alisaie doesn't have the luxury of time to untangle why it bothers her so much when Sunday says what he does about mutual fondness. But perhaps she doesn't have to untangle or make sense of it all since she understands that it irritates her. ]
Stop saying it like that!
[ He hadn't, in fact put emphasis on anything he'd said, but it hardly matters. That's what it feels like with the amused lilt that she can pick out in his voice. Which then, in her mind, justifies the snappiness she retorts with. Of course, it is by no means right. But with her patience seemingly having worn thin, she doesn't seem to care whether she is truly right or wrong in this instance as she tosses the piping bag down. ]
Because you're being coy and evasive and it is irritating!
[ The pitch of her voice would have carried to other parts of the bakery had it not been for the fact that the machines were running. It is a small blessing then that her outburst is disguised behind noise and no one else is subject to what is essentially the equivalent of a teenager's outburst. ]
You're ridiculous. Don't speak to me for the rest of the shift.
[ Coy and evasive - those aren't the adjectives he would've chosen for what he's said. Or, well, they wouldn't be after he'd opted to get to the actual point. That much Sunday can recognize would be less than ideal. The same for being irritating, while he's being honest with himself.
It doesn't, however, explain that it feels like something is still missing here.
In the end, Alisaie doesn't say what pulled at the edges of his mind as that possibility. But - the response is still forceful enough to make the same point when nothing further follows but the instruction ("instruction") to stop speaking. Sunday looks at her for a long moment impassively and then, telling himself it's only his own stubborn streak surfacing and not anything else, looks back at the tray before them. The pattern he'd started and half-finished is dry now so it'll take some added effort to make that less obvious on the finished product.
A task he'll begin on with nothing else to do. And true to that request, he says nothing. Only the kitchen's constant background noise will fill in the silence as he gets back to work. ]
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argumentiste) wrote2025-06-29 03:27 pm
no subject
It's not asked as sharply as her earlier questions - and as Sunday would've recognized as well deserved even without the guilt that's clouded over him ever since he walked out of the train car and left her behind. It could be a mere extension of the level of guilt he always tends to feel for so many things, but this is specific. Something deserved for actions for which he has no one to blame but himself, for here and before it.
Back in the present, however, her confusion seems quite genuine. And if that's the case, no wonder what was said wasn't really heard. ]
I'd call it an observation over implying anything.
[ But she's right that there is an implication in there and one she's apparently not seeing, even if he'd meant it as something far less severe than Alisaie seems to be taking this conversation. ]
Your friend is quite fond of you.
[ His actual point in a deliberate choice of words - and one he's careful to say quite neutrally. ]
no subject
That was the downside to being to being passionate about things. It was just as difficult to forgive.
But clearly they weren't speaking about the same thing anymore. Or if they had she had seemed to have lost the thread somewhere along the way. Because why did it sound like they were suddenly speaking about Josuke's intentions? He had obviously been here to deliver a candygram sent by Jack who she considered a dear friend. There was nothing more to it than that. Confusion overtakes her expression, the bristle of her defensiveness lowering for just a moment as she almost laughs - ]
Fond? Whatever gave you that impression? [ Why did this suddenly feel akin to a time when she had teased Alphinaud about his endless swarm of fan club members? ] That was our third meeting. Second if you only count pleasant interactions.
no subject
[ Neither does any pleasantries, really, when while that might define an initial meeting those that fall outside of whatever scale is being used for pleasant can add just as much to shaping a relationship overall. Experience has taught him that much.
Sunday's not going to say as much to Alisaie now when her confusion is indicator enough that they are, in fact, speaking on two entirely different wavelengths. It's tempting to put down the piping bag while they talk, but maybe that would suggest this is far more serious than it actually is. Besides that, there's no guarantee she won't simply turn and walk away any second now.
So, he raises an eyebrow. ]
I was not saying the fondness is a negative, either. That would only be the case if it was something you considered unwelcome. [ A short pause while Sunday considers this and everything else again and finds that, just maybe, he should've asked another question. ] What is it that doesn't give you that impression?
no subject
[ The irony here of course is that what Sunday is saying is in some ways, echoes of conversations she's had with Alphinaud. Sometimes it is a matter of her pointing out that such and such likes him, or wondering why he's suddenly so enamoured with someone he's only had one class with.
It hadn't, and still doesn't, occur to her that this is something that could happen to her. Nor is she connecting the dots and why Sunday's raised eyebrow only seems to incite a prickle of annoyance and heat to her cheeks. There's nothing to stop the rise of an incredulous tone beginning to rise in her voice. ]
Friends are fond of one another. Josuke and I are friends.
[ Finally she lets out a loud huff, putting the piping back on the counter in front of them. ]
I find myself confused because I cannot tell if you are trying to provoke me on purpose.
no subject
Well, as long as it's mutual fondness, then.
[ Though this Sunday says with considerable amusement even as it answers nothing, but maybe that's all there is to it. It doesn't matter in the bigger picture, anyway, considering there's a good chance she might have to go through this conversation with any of the other bakery staff who'd stayed at the window before and after he'd made his own observations.
He's about to warn her about that being likely, but then it's Sunday's turn to be entirely confused by what she says when it catches him completely off-guard. ]
And why is it that you think I would be provoking you?
[ It's true he'd meant to tease her, but the way she's put it suggests something else. Though - there's an answer for why and one he has a feeling will be said with a mild sense of dread to it, and really: if it is what Alisaie will say next, then that's no one's fault but his own. ]
🎀🥺 wrap?
Stop saying it like that!
[ He hadn't, in fact put emphasis on anything he'd said, but it hardly matters. That's what it feels like with the amused lilt that she can pick out in his voice. Which then, in her mind, justifies the snappiness she retorts with. Of course, it is by no means right. But with her patience seemingly having worn thin, she doesn't seem to care whether she is truly right or wrong in this instance as she tosses the piping bag down. ]
Because you're being coy and evasive and it is irritating!
[ The pitch of her voice would have carried to other parts of the bakery had it not been for the fact that the machines were running. It is a small blessing then that her outburst is disguised behind noise and no one else is subject to what is essentially the equivalent of a teenager's outburst. ]
You're ridiculous. Don't speak to me for the rest of the shift.
🎀
It doesn't, however, explain that it feels like something is still missing here.
In the end, Alisaie doesn't say what pulled at the edges of his mind as that possibility. But - the response is still forceful enough to make the same point when nothing further follows but the instruction ("instruction") to stop speaking. Sunday looks at her for a long moment impassively and then, telling himself it's only his own stubborn streak surfacing and not anything else, looks back at the tray before them. The pattern he'd started and half-finished is dry now so it'll take some added effort to make that less obvious on the finished product.
A task he'll begin on with nothing else to do. And true to that request, he says nothing. Only the kitchen's constant background noise will fill in the silence as he gets back to work. ]