sampippy | A Dorm Room at Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Sunday

Hyacinthe also groaned, his arm haphazardly searching for his pants...which were probably still out by the couch. "Have you something I can wear?" he asked.

"You can barely walk," Xanthippe complained (it sounded like complaining, anyway), already trying to roll off him in a highly uncoordinated way.

Yes, all their previous clothes were still strewn around the couch in the next room over, despite her earlier thoughts about doing the smart thing and bringing them over.

"Maybe I can get away with like, a hoodie."

"I'd not put you out..." He looked at her and whatever he saw in her face had him convinced that silence was the better course of action. "A bathrobe, mayhaps?" he suggested humbly.

Sometimes, it really was the best idea to just get out of the way when Voorhees women were trying to do something. Xanthippe shot him a grateful look for his suggestion, though, because she was already on her feet and kind of frazzled-ly looking around for anything easy that covered up enough of her.

There was another knock.

"I'm coming!"

She grabbed the bathrobe that was hanging by her closet door, and pulled it on as she disappeared back into the main room. The Uber Eats guy tried to flirt with her, but she was having none of it right now. So a moment or few later, she returned to Hya with her treasures: two takeaway bags with the IHOP logo on them.

"I should probably grab our clothes from the living room, too."

Hya was more than ready to back off and let Xanthippe do her thing. He didn't want her to feel like he assumed she would fetch and carry for him, but did she insist, he was only too happy to continue to be flopped on the bed.

"I shall set up our meal," he offered. "And when you return to the room with our clothing, your food will be ready for you and you needn't leave again."

"Thank you," she said, as she handed the bags to him. And she meant it - which, honestly, you could tell by the way she even said it, because politeness continued not to be a strength of hers.

Then she disappeared out the door again.

How many items of clothing did two people even wear?

Far too much, especially when one wanted to get at what was beneath the clothes.

Hya set about emptying the bags and arranging their food in a charming little semi-circle. He did it without thinking; in Terre D'ange, even the act of arranging food or setting a table was considered an art and thus, care was taken to make sure it was done pleasingly, even by Didikani bastards in Night's Doorstep.

Anything worth doing was worth doing prettily.

There were way too many clothes. But Xanthippe was pretty sure she got all of them, eventually, and the rest of the evidence that there'd been anything against the rules happening in the common area.

She closed the door behind her when she came back. Dumped the mixed bundle of clothes on the chair and the condom and the wrapper in the trash.

"Think I got it all."

And that was when she looked at what he'd done. And she smiled. "Oh, wow."

Hyacinthe glanced up from where he was finishing up putting the napkins into a small spiral at the center of the bed, upon which rested plastic utensils. "'Tisn't much," Hya said, though his grin was pleased. "Takeout does not offer much to work with."

"You really don't want to know what it usually looks like when I have takeout here," Xanthippe told him as she sat down on the bed again, across from him.

It was usually a whole lot of eating hunched up over her laptop, for one thing.

"Did they get everything?" she asked, surveying the spread. "Looks like they got everything."

"I am still not entirely sure what all you ordered nor what it all looks like," Hyacinthe teased. "But if you think this is all, I would hardly disagree. You've ordered us a feast, cherie."

"It's all just crepes and pancakes, which are basically the same thing," Xanthippe replied with a shrug and a little smile. "And a Tropical Island Twist." Which she was now reaching for because hydration, ooh yes. "It's... okay, guess it counts for a feast.

"'Tis no wonder you are thirsty, cherie," Hyacinthe said, giving her a cheerfully filthy smirk. "I know where all your moisture went."

Xanthippe snorted, then made sure her sip through the straw was extra lengthy.

"I mean, if I get a dehydration headache, that's on you."

Which would still be a change from all the ones she'd gotten before from studying in a panic and forgetting to drink!

"I'm sure I can give you something to make you feel better," Hya purred.

With no ability to follow through on that, at lease not for awhile.

Yeah, the amused look Xan was giving him said much the same. "Suuure, Hya. 'Cause you're a superman and you're totally not worn out for a while.""

"I'm an only agreeing because to say otherwise would hurt your pride," Hyacinthe sniffed, his eyes full of irrepressible mischief. "Truly."

Snort.

"You're ridiculous, just eat your crepes. Instead of lying to my face."

Which she was obviously oh so upset about, instead of feeling stupidly good about being able to talk to anyone like this.

"I'm an only eating my crepes because to do otherwise would hurt your pride," Hyacinthe said, now just absolutely grinning like a dork. Had you realized he was a major brat, Xanthippe? Because actually, he was.

"Oh, my God," Xanthippe sputtered, but it was mixed with laughter. "Oh my God. Stop."

A beat, and then her hand came up, index finger extended.

"Don't, don't say it --"

"I am only stopping..." he teased at the exact same time, because, no seriously, he was the worst.

He really was.

"Shut uppp," she whined, trying not to laugh. And failing, spectacularly. The accidental snort was probably not a very attractive sound but for once, she didn't even notice. "Oh my God."

See, and here Hyacinthe thought it was adorable. It meant she was genuinely laughing and not worrying about how she looked.

"And all this time, you thought I was so suave," he teased. "Only for me to prove, unequivocally, that I am but a clown."

"Yeah, you're the actual worst and I don't know if I'm okay with this revelation," Xanthippe retorted, after another sip from the drink, now that she probably wouldn't choke on it. "Not sure I should be letting clowns, like, have their way with me."

"Absolutely not," Hyacinthe said. "But, you absolutely ought to be having your way with clowns."

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