She listens to Isaac leave and puts the washed dishes to the side. She doesn't look at Derek, because this is the part she's not good at. The part that involves living, breathing people and not those that have been dead for a few hundred years. Those she knows how to deal with.
Brigid bites her lip. She finishes washing the new dishes and pans that she's bought, setting up the crockpots, because those will definitely be getting a workout. The freezer has plenty of food in it, but nothing prepared and that makes her twitch. She likes being able to walk in and grab something to munch on without too much work.
She's not an idiot; if Isaac is anything like the teenage boys of her former pack, he'll take to being able to grab meals like a duck to water soon enough. And it's one thing that she loves doing. She'd learned out of self-defense for the food budget, but she'd come to enjoy and revel in being able to create in such a way.
Brigid hadn't been lying when she said she'd bake cookies and not allow Stiles to have any.
"Markus started shopping for others to marry me off to." Brigid whispers, staring at the chopping board. She reaches for the vegetables after lining the crockpot. "Alphas, mostly. I've met more than one, the last year or so, since I got back from Ireland." Her fingers start chopping vegetables with delicate, practiced movements. She wants Derek to understand everything that she knows, even if she's really not good at this. "I told him I was holding to the agreement."
Brigid licks her lips, finally looking up at Derek. "The priest said he'd marry us, if that's what we want. It's... I promised Da. I don't care about a big wedding, or fancy clothes, but in a church, with a priest. None of the rest of it matters." Now she is just rambling and isn't even sure of what she's saying.
no subject
Brigid bites her lip. She finishes washing the new dishes and pans that she's bought, setting up the crockpots, because those will definitely be getting a workout. The freezer has plenty of food in it, but nothing prepared and that makes her twitch. She likes being able to walk in and grab something to munch on without too much work.
She's not an idiot; if Isaac is anything like the teenage boys of her former pack, he'll take to being able to grab meals like a duck to water soon enough. And it's one thing that she loves doing. She'd learned out of self-defense for the food budget, but she'd come to enjoy and revel in being able to create in such a way.
Brigid hadn't been lying when she said she'd bake cookies and not allow Stiles to have any.
"Markus started shopping for others to marry me off to." Brigid whispers, staring at the chopping board. She reaches for the vegetables after lining the crockpot. "Alphas, mostly. I've met more than one, the last year or so, since I got back from Ireland." Her fingers start chopping vegetables with delicate, practiced movements. She wants Derek to understand everything that she knows, even if she's really not good at this. "I told him I was holding to the agreement."
Brigid licks her lips, finally looking up at Derek. "The priest said he'd marry us, if that's what we want. It's... I promised Da. I don't care about a big wedding, or fancy clothes, but in a church, with a priest. None of the rest of it matters." Now she is just rambling and isn't even sure of what she's saying.