Crochet Class: Fourth Stitch

Zavala looked up from his worktable at the sound of the door opening. He watched as a now familiar cloaked figure stepped almost hesitantly inside and paused, looking around. “Did I get the time wrong?” She asked. Zavala set aside his book and stood. He hadn’t expected any students after no one had shown in the first half hour. He was so pleased that one had arrived that he couldn’t even bring himself to chide her for her tardiness. “No, of course not.” He replied, stepping around the table. “Welcome back, Alia.” She smiled, perhaps pleased that he had remembered her name. It had been a while, after all. “Thank you, ah…Commander.” “Have you been practicing?” He asked, gesturing her to take a seat. She shrugged uncomfortably. “Not as much as I should. But when I was able…” “I understand our commitments make such things difficult.” He agreed, taking a seat across from her. She seemed a little surprised at his proximity, but covered it by fussing over her cloak. “May I see your work?” He asked. She nodded and rummaged inside the folds of material for a moment, finally pulling out a solid orange crocheted blanket nearly as long as her floor-sweeping cloak. “I didn’t, ah, know where to stop.” “Where did you even keep that?” He found himself asking. She smiled again. “Hunter secret.” He gave her an exasperated look and she laughed before falling into pensive silence as he examined her work. There were gaps large enough to fit his considerably large hand through, and other parts where it looked as though she had given up and just tied a knot before starting over. That being said, the places that had been done correctly were neat and even. Alia squirmed in her chair as he proceeded down the rows. “I got a little creative towards the middle.” she explained. “I can see that.” He kept his expression blank. “I can see you seeing that.” She lilted. He glanced up at the Hunter to see her smile was back in place. She was teasing him, he realized. Usually none but Cayde and perhaps Ikora, if she was in a mood, would even think to tease him. He handed the blanket back to the Hunter. “Well?” She asked. “I can see definite improvements and even your, ah, creative attempts were conceptually correct even if not well executed.” He rose and went to get his kit. “I can see what you were trying to do. So if I may?” “Please.” She replied, before rummaging again under her cloak. “I got some more yarn from Eva. She knows what colors I like.” She produced yet another skein of orange yarn from beneath her cloak. This one was even brighter than the one he had provided. Zavala cleared his throat. “Have you considered using different colors along with…orange?” Her mouth dropped open slightly. “You can do that?” He couldn’t help his amused smile. Her expression changed subtly, just for a moment, before she shook herself. “I only have this color right now, though.” “I have others.” He replied, grabbing his kit and several extra skeins of yarn. “You’re welcome to make use of them.” Together they compared the colors, holding up each one to the orange and seeing what worked well together. “It clashes with just about everything, doesn’t it?” She asked, deflated. Zavala held up another skein. “It’s about coordination, not matching. Like combining different skill sets to make a more efficient fireteam.” He shook his head. “Perhaps a violet. For the void.” She glanced at him. “Maybe.” He rose and went to his table to look for the right color. “If I may ask, why orange?” He said while rummaging in the bins. “It’s my favorite color.” she replied. “I…I remember it always being my favorite color.” “Such memories are rare.” She nodded. “And, well…When I woke up, there was this.” She reached up to grasp her hood, hesitated, and pushed it back. Silky silver-blue hair fell back into place, brushing her jaw. Brows the same color framed silver-blue eyes and… “Your facial tattoos.” Subtle, at the corners of her eyes and between her brows. “Yeah, orange.” “Which goes remarkably well with your coloration.” Her cheeks went slightly violet, making the silver lines running through them stand out sharply. She truly was attractive, as he remembered Cayde pointing out. He distracted himself by pulling out a different skein of yarn. She watched him, fiddling with her hook, as he returned, arms full of colors. He laid them on an empty chair, pushing a finger through to sort them before picking up the one he wanted. He sat and held it up to her cheek. “A perfect match.” He said, and without his volition his eyes locked on hers. That surprised look returned, and now he could read her eyes. She looked confused and perhaps a little flustered as she took the yarn from him and held it, glancing between him and the skein. She held it up, squinting a little at the pale blue with silver strands. “A perfect match.” She murmured. “I couldn’t possibly use this. It’s obviously…” “Then save it for when you feel your skill matches the materials.” He coughed and looked away. “I look forward to seeing what you can produce.” “I will.” She agreed, tucking it away. “But for now, maybe the violet?” “Yes, of course.” He reached into his kit and pulled out his hook. “Shall we begin?” --- Fifth Stitch: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226252891/0/0 Master List: https://www.bungie.net/en/Clan/Post/1371758/226373948/0/0