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[ There is, naturally, a third cup on the table waiting to be filled with tea for Diluc.

Ori's gaze follows Thoma's as she hears the quiet rustling of bedding and while Thoma gives a warm smile that greets almost like the morning sun would, Ori's smile is visibly worn by worry at its edges and on her brow as she looks Diluc over. She's never been good at hiding when she's worried, after all.

She doesn't say anything, for now; she'll quietly watch Diluc's movements and wait for his words to assess whether or not she needs to cast another healing spell on him for good measure. ]

[With Thoma's bright smile and Ori's clear concern for his well-being, the emotional pull toward them becomes just a bit stronger. Diluc does his best to ignore it.]

Much.

[The answer is sincere and passes inspection of how he looks rather than just how he feels. Despite the grogginess and the stiffness of his movements, there's color in his face and no sign of pain in his expression. His hair is a mess, crimson curls tousled every which way even as it's still pulled up from when he was receiving care, but that can be corrected with a comb and a wash.

Which he will worry about later. For now, there is warm tea and a meal that smells very, very good. Diluc gets out of the bed and moves to join the two of them, taking one of the empty seats.]

[ Apart from being rather mussed from sleep - something that does a lot to soften Diluc’s edges, Thoma notes - he does look a lot better. Groggy, sure, but less pained. Thoma’s grin only broadens as Diluc works his way over to the table.

He’ll let Ori handle the tea, as that seems to be her specialty. ]

I hope you woke up hungry. I might have gone a little overboard with the stew.

[ Said as he gets up from his chair and goes to give the pot a stir. It looks like it’s about done. ]

I made a note of all the ingredients I used, so I can bring you replacements tomorrow.

[ There's a certain relief that washes over Ori's face when Diluc manages to make his way over with relative ease, slowed only by the bleariness of having just woken up from a much-needed slumber. She takes up the teapot as he takes a place at the table, carefully pouring tea into his cup with a small smile. ]

—and this is chamomile tea. Something herbal so you can easily go back to rest after the meal...

[ After she sets the teapot back down, she gives Diluc another measuring glance now that he's in a spot with more light. There's something familiar about helping out a friend who's recovering from a tough encounter, and she silently tamps down the feeling of missing her adventuring friends bubbling up. She can't help the fond look on her face when she points out, ]

Oh, your hair got all tangled up while you were sleeping.

[Diluc looks at each of them in turn, his expression betraying his disbelief and the strangely touched feeling of being cared for like this. What had started as a request for basic first aid has quickly gotten out of his control, and he sincerely doesn't know how to react. This level of effort is wasted on him. He doesn't have room in his life for this kind of tenderness.

With a sigh, he addresses them with a no-nonsense tone in hopes of somehow reigning the situation--and his increasingly complicated feelings about it--in.]

First of all: there will be no replacing food. You prepared a meal, and have helped me greatly besides. The least I can do is provide the ingredients for the meal.

Secondly: thank you for the stew and the tea.

Thirdly: ... [He pauses, self consciously running his hands through his hair to smooth it down.] My hair isn't that bad.

[It is.

Lest Thoma or Ori believe that Diluc's response is earnestly barbed and might ruin the mood, it should be noted that the dreamotion energy of the room has not diminished in positivity at all. If anything, it seems more concentrated around him than elsewhere in the space, Thoma's light hanging close and Ori's flowers jumping from her hair into his.]

[ Having spent a decent amount of time with Diluc by now, Thoma is aware that he's often taciturn at best, and when he does have something more to say, he's matter-of-fact and to the point. That isn't a reflection on any of them, it's just how Diluc is.

So, he's not bothered by the tone of voice - and it is rather undone by the little motes of light and flowers weaving themselves into his hair. In fact, Thoma finds the sight strangely endearing. No wonder Diluc was often the talk of the town, even when they were kids. ]

All right, all right, I won't replace your food. But if you need a hand with groceries, I'm happy to help.

[ As for Diluc's hair, well... he turns to Ori, barely stifling a laugh. ]

[ Ori tenses just a little bit when Diluc starts to speak; she hasn't gotten the chance to spend much time with him as of yet, and after the initial frustration of their first meeting she really did find him to be such pleasant company but... his tone would almost seem scolding, if he wasn't very shortly surrounded by the very same lights and flowers that normally surround her and Thoma. She isn't sure what to make of it, but in the end... perhaps he isn't being as severe as his voice might have otherwise suggested, and Ori finds herself easing back into the lighthearted, heartwarming feeling of the moments prior.

By the time he gets around to the bit about his hair, though, it looks all the more disheveled now that flowers have made their way into the scarlet of his tangled tresses - and Ori finds her gaze meeting Thoma's as she's unable to suppress a smile. She takes it upon herself to get up out of her seat and move towards Diluc, leaning over his shoulder with a hand on the backrest of his chair. ]

Still, though... Untangling flowers out of your hair is going to be a challenge if you try to do it by yourself later. Can I help at least a little bit?

[ Take it from someone who does this on the regular - let her comb your hair, Diluc! ]

[~~Rude of both of you to be amused at him like this.~~

Diluc can't help but feel like he's being tag-teamed by these two, especially as Ori moves into his personal space a bit to comment on the flowers that have now entangled themselves into his hair. He sighs heavily in defeat...

...even as a small firebird emerges from somewhere in his vicinity, flying over to the pot of stew and chirping happily before it disperses into a wisp of smoke.

Well, now there definitely is no denying that actually it's kind of nice that they're taking the time and effort to care this much. He clears his throat, doing his best to pretend that manifestation didn't just happen.]

All right, if you insist on it.

[ As Thoma goes to turn back to the stew pot, he catches sight of the little bird of flame that flies over and his eyes instantly flick towards the pair at the table. There’s so much warmth and joy in the room that his heart swells with it, and that feeling only grows as he watches Ori fuss over Diluc, the two of them cast in the golden glow of their emotions made manifest.

This moment feels precious for reasons he can’t quite put his finger on, and some part of him wants to take it and keep it forever, tucked close to his heart.

But that’s a silly thought, so he turns back to their supper, starting the business of spooning the stew into bowls and getting the bread prepared - better it be freshly toasted, after all. ]

[ Ori brings her hands up to gently loosen the tie that holds Diluc's hair up in a now-disheveled ponytail, slowly pulling it down to let his hair fall down around him when she sees the little firebird form and flutter away, and she finds herself in a pause as she looks on— and meets Thoma's gaze.

Not for the first time, something seems to pass between them in the midst of her flowers and Thoma's lights— and now Diluc's flames, too. And not for the first time, she isn't sure what to make or think of that something; it feels singular and precious, but at the same time... it doesn't feel like something that's for her, something that she can allow herself to have. ]

I promise I'll be gentle.

[ Sometimes, Ori is capable of saying something teasingly or even with some small amount of sass.

Ori looks back down at Diluc even as he seems to be pretending that whatever happened didn't just happen, and she wears a small, if not tentative smile to herself as she goes about carefully plucking flowers out of his hair and working out any knots that might have formed as he slept with a comb conjured out of dreamotion energy. ]

[Finally, finally, Diluc allows his expression to relax. He's not quite smiling, but the last of the usual severity has been worn down by these two and the literal light and warmth hanging around all of them.

Still pretending the firebird didn't happen, though. It's one thing to be comfortable in their presence. It's quite another to allow himself to get too close.]

I can handle it if you aren't.

[Is he joking back? The world may never know.]

[ Thoma snorts at the brief exchange of banter behind him. It’s a good thing he’s not the type to take things out of context, because those words could be taken quite differently if he was.

Which he is not.

In any case, it’s a few more moments before the bread comes out of the pan, freshly toasted and slathered in a homemade concoction of herbs and butter, which melts nicely into the warm, crispy surface. Hopefully it gives enough time for Ori to do something satisfactory with Diluc’s hair. ]

Dinner’s ready!

[ Said as he is already sweeping over to the table with their bowls and a plate of bread to share. ]

[ As she looks down at Diluc's hair while gently combing through it, Ori thinks - it's moments like this, quiet and warm, that Ori wishes her life had more room in it for. She has spent the better part of the last few months just constantly on the run, and she's dreamt of a life that afforded this kind of comfort more than she realizes.

By the time Thoma has finished preparing the buttered bread, Ori has carefully pulled Diluc's long, red hair into a loose braid. It's enough to keep his hair out of his face for supper and comfortable enough to sleep in afterwards. With her work finished, she takes a seat again and looks back over at Diluc just as Thoma sets bowls and plates onto the table.

(A few more flowers perk up and unfurl in her hair in that moment, just as a thought passes through her mind about how Diluc looks, but maybe she can also pretend that it didn't happen.) ]

...Ah, thank you, Chef Thoma!

[~~At least someone got the joke.~~

Diluc's hair hasn't received this kind of attention from another person since... ever, honestly. It's always been long, his father would always pull it back or up after brushing it out. As he grew old enough to take care of it himself, he generally defaulted to the same (or just leaving it down, but that rarely happens these days). He doesn't even know how to braid it like this.

It looks nice. And he's surprisingly pleased with that fact.]

Thank you, Ori.

[Thoma serves their soup and some bread, and Diluc swears he can see that little firebird again at the edge of his vision. He ignores it.]

And thank you both for supper. It looks and smells wonderful.

[The firebird soars a touch higher. It's a good thing it's made of magic and not actual fire, or it would set the ceiling ablaze.]

Let's eat.

Edited (hecked up html) 2022-01-02 04:22 (UTC)

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