Starchild

A Ring or Two

The carefulness with which Strange cuts the bread looks absolutely ridiculous from the table, but I understand him. Even from here I can see him hold his wrist tight so the knife does not shake that much and makes a perfect diagonal line across the squared bread. I bet he could use magic. But he doesn't.

Wong, sitting next to me, is again making one of his little napkin crafts. I watch him fold, and fold, and fold, as it slowly adopts a shape - it looks like a bird, way less complex than the other figure I saw him make. —What's that? —I finally ask, pointing at it.

—Origami. A paper crane, the easiest figure. —when he sees me frown, he holds the bird up high, —A crane is a pretty common bird. This is just a replica done by folding paper, an art called origami, a japanese word. —

—Oh. —I nod, then grab a napkin for myself. —Teach me. —

He raises both of his eyebrows, maybe in surprise. He grabs another napkin for himself. —Okay then. The napkin's a square, right? That's your starting base. It always has to be a square. —

I nod again. He starts one fold, which I easily follow. He does it very slowly. —You can do it quickly, I will not get lost. —

—You better not. —he jokes, and picks up the pace, —When you get used to it you learn to do it quicker and smoother. And then you learn more shapes and make them to show them to your friends who will usually be amazed. —

Comparing his work with mine, you can tell it's my first time. My folds are rough and some are not even symmetrical. Wong does not correct it, though. I sigh. —I suppose you really like making origami. —

He smiles. He smiles. His smile is way softer than Strange's, or Father's, or mine. And it does not go away quickly; no, he keeps it there as he speaks, —Yes. It's fun and kind of calming. When I'm bored I do it. Sometimes when Strange is being annoying I also do it to keep me from wanting to kill him. —

—I can hear you! —Strange shouts.

Wong chuckles, —It's therapeutic. —

Finally, we complete the cranes. Mine looks worse, but a funny kind of worse. It is almost falling to the side, and its head is very scrunched up. I giggle. —Looks beautiful. —

—Do you know something interesting about these? —he points at them, and I shake my head. —There's a legend, a japanese legend, that says whoever makes a thousand paper cranes will be granted a wish by the gods. I've read a few fiction books with that premise. —

I hum, grabbing my crane and saving it in my pocket, —Hm... That's nice. I haven't heard anything about those wishes among the asgardian gods, though. —he chuckles again. —Maybe we should try it out someday. —

—Maybe. —

Strange clears his throat, bringing the plates to the table one by one with caution. —So you know cheese, and you know bread. I present to you, —he puts my plate in front of me, —The best single dish in the universe! —

It is just a square of bread with cheese, cut in two. —Melted cheese inside bread? —

He smiles, —Exactly. —

Wong watches intensively as Strange opens the fridge and grabs a big glass jug full of some juice. He is waiting for him to drop it - but not in an accusatory way, but a worried one. However, the jug makes it to the table in one piece, and Strange quickly brings three cups for the drinks.

He sits down. —Ah. Time for my favourite delicacy. —as he bites into the bread, he softly groans, and Wong looks at him incredulously. I laugh.

—You don't do that with my food. —Wong mutters, and Strange simply shrugs.