2024-11-28 - Thanksgrilling

There's a luxury—working at a theme park and getting major holidays off.

Of course, it's a luxury that Leon doesn't have, but it is something she sometimes longs for. It's been another long day, and she's dragging herself in through the front door of the apartment having not even hit the showers in the wardrobe department to scrub off face paint she usually wears when she's set as Malia the Wicked—the evil Fairy Queen of Spellbound. No wings, horns or pointy ears, so at least she's only partially still wicked. She drops her bag heavily by the door and starts pulling off her Ugg boots to toss unceremoniously at the other shoes by the door.

"Laaaaay," she says, stretching out that syllable, but with a tiredness in the usual singsong, "I'm home. God, please say there's still beer in the fridge."

As soon as Leon opens the door, she's greeted with a cavalcade of scents floating out from the kitchen. Earthy spices combine with sharper citrus flavors in the air, tantalizing as they mingle.

"Leeeee," Layla calls back from the kitchen, her voice bright. "I got off early and started cooking. Got more beer on my way home - it's in the fridge."

"You're a saint," Leon croons as she opens the fridge to dig out a beer. She leans into the closed door, sighing happily. "God, my feet are killing me. I need to get some new inserts for Malia's boots." She swings herself up on the counter close to where Layla is cooking, tilting her head to watch. "You know, if you continue to cook like this, I'm never going to move out and become a real adult."

"I'm hungry is what I am," Layla corrects with a snort, shaking her head and grinning over at Leon. "You're the beneficiary of that, darling."

Up close, Leon can see now what smells so good:

In one pot, bundles of green leaves with some kind of filling simmer, smelling like sharp citrus and a variety of spices.

In the other pot, large meatballs float in an orange sauce, smelling strongly of tahini.

Fragrant rice has already been prepared and set to the side, ready to eat.

"Hope you're okay with a Kurdish Thanksgiving. Anything else you want tonight?"

"God, Lay... that looks amazing." Leon leans over the pot cautiously, taking in the scents. Then she hops down so she can start to grab dishes and silverware for the pair of them. "I'll take whatever Thanksgiving you want to give me. That smells like what I imagine heaven must smell like."

She is not much of a table-sitter, but she sets the plates and cutlery down beside the stove so its ready for both of them.

"Please tell me your night went more chill than mine."

"Of course, miss Lee. I know you'd do the same for me."

Layla grins, giving each pot one last stir before taking them off of the heat. "My rehearsal was just as dramatic as they usually are, but that's to be expected. We're all divas and we know it."

She grabs a plate and dishes herself up first, starting with rice and adding the other dishes on the side. "Why was yours not chill? Did anyone give Malia trouble?"

"I would... it wouldn't be nearly as tasty, but I would."

Now Leon tilts her head, picking up her own plate at that silent permission to dig in. "You're not that much of a diva." Her nose wrinkles as she smiles at her roommate and then she focuses back on mimicking loading up her plate the same way Layla does.

"It was just busy, and cold, and I swear Malia's costume is meant to be some kind of alluring Faerie Queen while also making sure her actor freezes her butt off."

"Don't try and butter me up. I can smell flattery from a mile away," Layla teases, smirking at Leon. "I'll freely admit that I'm a diva, too, but just in subtler ways than most. Miss Ice Princess is anything but subtle."

She nods sympathetically as Leon recaps her day, shaking her head. "I mean, at least you look good in it. Some of the outfits I've had people try and put me in for shows..." Layla mimes gagging. "At least the stuff I've had lately has been good. Had to do a bit of a photoshoot in one of the new outfits with one of the photographer people a few days ago. Nice guy - he'd actually been out to near where I'm from in Syria before."

"I do like your subtle diva side," Leon agrees cheerfuly as she goes back to leaning against the counter, because apparently eating at the kitchen table also went the ways of the dinosaurs since she left home a decade ago. She starts to nosh happily on the food, sighing out contented groans when she tastes the food Layla has prepared. It just isn't fair having a roommate who knows how to cook.

Something clicks when Layla describes the photographer she met, and she blinks over at her just as heat inexplicably flushes her cheeks. "Oh, you mean Eddie? He's amazing. He is one of the photographers usually assigned to my character walks." She blinks a moment when Layla mentions how she might be connected to him. "Syria? I didn't know that. I mean... I knew he was some kinda journalist before he landed here, but wow... what was he doing in Syria?" There's a hint of curiosity in her tone that she is trying very hard to cover up.

Layla is perfectly fine with eating at the counter, so she follows suit and leans against the counter, further down from Leon. "The green leaf wraps are called dolma - grape leaves stuffed with spiced beef and vegetables. The meatballs are called kofta," she explains, spearing a dolma and making an indecent noise and she bites into it.

Her dark, perceptive eyes definitely do not miss the color that mentioning Eddie brings to Leon's cheeks. Hmmmmm.

"Oh yes, Eddie! He's amazing," Layla agrees innocently, grabbing a kofta next. "He wasn't actually in Syria, but in northern Iraq, just across from the border from where I'm from. He said he used to be an embedded journalist?" She glances over at Leon, dropping her innocent mask and replacing it with a wicked smirk. "Did he not mention that when you were crushing on him?"

"I hope you feed me forever," Leon says happily as she tucks into the food happily.

She looks over at Layla at that innocent agreement, and she arches her brows slightly at the information Layla provides. "Yeah, I knew that... rough work, I think. Only way to explain how you go from a really well-known journalist to... working at a theme park." She sighs. "Not that working at a theme park is lesser work." Those words sound rehearsed, as it is something she has said both to herself and her parents.

She blinks suddenly at Layla's question. "Crushing? I'm not crushing... on Eddie."

"Hmmmmm."

Layla squints at Leon, weighing everything she says...

"Oops, sorry. Not crushing. I mean, if you are, you can always tell me. Everything you tell me is always in strict confidence. Layla-client privilege," she says, grinning and digging back into the meal.

She totally doesn't believe Leon, but that's okay. She'll save the grilling for after Thanksgiving.