sixwordstories | (no subject)

You fucking romantic.

It's one of th' reasons you love me.

In the middle of a heat wave. I predict a sweaty evening for you.

A sweaty night inside or a sweaty night on th grass watchin’ th stars.

You hinting at something or is your AC busted?

Chere. Ain't no such thing as AC where I'm from

So tell me, how do you stay cool in the bayou?

Y'don't. You just live with bein' hot an sweaty all th time.

I only like to sweat for fun reasons. That sounds miserable.

It ain't that bad, really.

Please. Your cooking is the only reason any of us put up with you.

You don’t inspire much confidence. What I know about the swamp includes bugs, snakes, poverty and now no AC. Is there an up side I’m missing?

You forgot rednecks, gators an th most delicious home cookin'.

An Swamp monsters of course.

I can’t say that I have ever had swamp cooking. I’ve only been to New Orleans once for work. I’ve been meaning to go back for Mardi Gras though.

New Orleans is awful good when it comes t'restaurants but you ain't had proper cajun food till you eaten it outta a pot on a stove out on th bayou.

If you cook it, I’ll try it.

I reckon that c'n be arranged.

Alright but we must come to an agreement. I don’t want to eat an animal’s feet or head. I will try to be open minded about everything else.

Ain't no point if I don't use Crawfish.

You are gonna make me cook for you, is that it?

Shellfish is fine. I meant more like pig feet, chicken feet, fish heads, etc. I know some southerners swear by that stuff but No.

Like you said, belle. Poverty. You live in a swamp, you learn t'cook everythin an figure out how t'make it delicious.
I'll stick with th crawfish. No sense causin you some trauma.

Seems a fair trade for my company.

I appreciate that. Thank you. So when can I expect this gourmet meal?

[He shrugs] It's summer vacation. I ain't got nothin' but time. You tell me when you expect it.

I reckon I'm th one gettin' th better deal. An I say that knowin' just how good I c'n cook.

You’re a teacher. ...That’s weirdly hot. Tomorrow?

Bon. A demain then.

It’s a date.

Stargazing? [A nostalgic look with a touch of sadness crosses her face before it's replaced by a small smile.] Yeah, I can get into that.

Oui. [He tosses an arm around her shoulder and draws her into a half-hug]

I already got th whiskey.

[She's incredibly grateful for the half-hug and wraps her arm around his waist lightly, completely platonic.]

Any wine?

Easy enough t'get some chere. White or Red?

Red. Something on the sweet side.

Easily done.

You're the best. [She'll drink whiskey in a pinch but prefers wine.]

So do you have any special place for stargazing?

You are very lucky you're an attractive man, LeBeau. Or someone would have punched that smirk off your face.

I seem t'remember you slappin' it off me...

Oui. But we're gonna have t'go th other direction t'get wine.

I think I can handle a few more minutes in your company.

How're things?

And I'd do it again.

Oh. Sorry! I... guess I didn't expect to run into anybody out here. Kinda dumb, now that I think about it.