WRE fic snippet; while they get ready for an evening out, Romaine discovers something about El’s approach to domesticity.
“I wanted to wear this but it got creased,” El said, holding up the blouse. She was wearing black leggings and a black crop top, the blouse in question red with a black and gold pattern. Her makeup was done but her hair was roughly bundled up with a couple of scrunchies, yet to be styled.
Romaine was already dressed for going out in neatly pressed trousers and a crisp white shirt that he was being careful not to spill coffee on while El got ready. He regarded the blouse with a critical eye. “A little bit. You’ve got time to iron it.”
“I don’t iron!” El sighed. “It’ll take a while to warm up the steamer.”
Romaine blinked a few times. “What do you mean you don’t iron?”
“I don’t iron,” she repeated. “What’s to understand?”
El shrugged. “I buy things that need little or no ironing mostly. Try to hang things like blouses and dresses up carefully so they don’t normally crease. I’ve got a mini steamer for cleaning and sometimes I use that to get any creases out.”
Which was all very practical up until this point.
“Are you telling me you don’t even own an iron?”
“I don’t iron,” El said again. “Why would I need one? Oh, one time I had to make do, because an iron and brown paper is the best way to get candle wax out of materials but that’s not going to work here.”
She checked her watch, frowned.
Romaine gave a long suffering sigh. “I have an iron,” he said. “Give it to me, I’ll go and press your blouse while you finish doing your hair.”
El handed it over, kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks, Rommie. You’re so domesticated.”
“Lucky for you,” he said. “Hair, now, or we’ll be late.”
She laughed and began to release the mass of shining black tresses. She was singing something Romaine had an idea was a Shania Twain number as he headed to his flat to do El’s ironing. Later he was going to ask more questions about the candle wax.