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[headjacked]

Heyyyyyyyy, kiddo, you've reached me. Me who is Rhys. Anyway, not sure why you're trying to get in contact with the king of the dweebs, but I'm sure you've got your reasons. Reasons you should probably re-examine. I'm just sayin'.

Last chance to back out.

No?

Don't say I didn't warn ya.

Comments

[headjacked]

Ultra-super-mega-inferno well, Enoch.
I could not be more well if I tried. Stick a fork in me, I'm well... done.

[ Yes, she warned him. Yes, he's overcompensating. ]

[warriorscribe]

[Yeah, the overcompensation is kind of obvious. Makes him feel a little like he's being hollowed out. He's trying, though, and the fact that Enoch even thinks of that is proof of his own progress, in a way.

Not that he's going to bring any of that up. And not going to directly reply. That fork idiom is just unfortunate.]

She also tells me you make some excellent pancakes. Beckett's said I should try some in the past.

[headjacked]

She's 100% correct, I am a fluffcake visionary. And you are more than welcome to the latest pancake party.



I mean it.

[warriorscribe]

[He wasn't expecting that - but just as part of him looks for an indication it's just talk, he remembers the hope that this might happen he'd managed to find in Angel's words. That things are going to be okay. That this pain, for both of them, won't last forever.]

Thank you, Rhys. It means a lot to me.

I have a plate to help serve them on, if you need any contributions.

[And a spatula, but he's more or less forgotten about it. Plus, it's a tiny icing spatula anyway. He's been here since day one, he's acquired a lot of useless stuff. The point is that this is normal.]

[headjacked]

[ He knows. He feels a gushy swell in his chest. Fidgets, not entirely comfortable, but traces of a smile despite it all. ]

Well sure, if we want to pretend we're civilized for a night.

[warriorscribe]

The food isn't the only thing we're treating ourselves to. Small comforts are important. I also have a fork and a bowl, if they will aid in the preparation.

[He is determined to make this the best pancake party ever. Or, at least as good as he can make it.]

[headjacked]

You're the man, man. We gotta find something nice to bring to you.

[warriorscribe]

I can't think of many things nicer than hot food. The pancakes are more than enough, themselves.

[More than he deserves, is the first thought that comes to mind. He surprises himself with how it doesn't wrack him with a physically painful guilt now, how certain he is it's false.]