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[~~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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