Nerium oleander

The proud father

The feeling of being observed, though strange, was quite useful, some said it was a leftover trait from the time humans lived in the wilderness, a helpful skill when surrounded by predators.

Tonight, the sensation was annoyingly constant, he was sure Francis could feel it too as he didn't stop pacing behind him, his eyes wandered to the window every now and then.

There was no need to pretend he didn't know who was prying at him, Yao busied himself with the food, the knife slid down softly, the soft meat made no resistance, yet it secured its form viciously. The smell of spices grew stronger as Sadik poured the sauce on top of it.

Francis sighed as he closed the oven, giving a last glance at it. "I can thank you enough for this," he said, leaning on the counter and pointing at the vase, arranged with yellow roses. "Who brought these? They're beautiful, though the color is quite unfortunate,"

"It's a nice detail, it doesn't have a bad meaning per se," Sadik hummed, opening the tap and washing his hands. "I don't understand why you put so much thought into those kind of things. Yellow is a good color, vibrant. It's not like the Vargas thought about the meaning these banquet would have after everything that has happened,"

"Sadik is right, I think it was a nice gesture, a bit corny but well..." Yao suppressed his laugh, washing his hands instead. "Alfred brought them,"

"I'm sorry, Arthur could ramble for hours about flowers and their meaning and I just can't help it, I'm losing hope that they'll find him," Francis said, his lips wavering slightly. It was a real shame. Once proud and energetic, Francis was now a shell, barely present even though his body was there, his eyebrows raised slightly and his eyes narrowed. "You mean Detective Jones brought you flowers?"

There was a pause, Sadik's laughter broke the silence. "I can't believe that is what makes you snap out of your grief,"

"Excuse me but I was not expecting that," Francis chuckled, tapping his fingers on the counter. "I haven't been able to rest so well and I'm zoning out a lot. How much did I miss?"

"It's only natural that you think about what Arthur would've said, this banquet is quite unfortunate." Yao sighed, reaching for the bottle of wine and pouring a glass.

Sadik nodded. "Perhaps the fact that he's missing is for the better,"

"You don't believe them, do you?" Francis gasped, taking the glass. "Arthur would be incapable of such a thing."

"Well, you know him better than everyone here," Yao hummed, soothing words came easily, after all, it was the same as lying. "What they or I think doesn't matter, experience shapes our perception and if you are trying to come to terms with all the versions of Arthur that come out of everyone's mouth, you'll be driving yourself into a dead end."

Francis nodded, fixing his gaze on the wine. "It's just, so much is happening and I don't understand why,"

"Don't think too much about it," Sadik said, pouring a glass of wine for himself. "Sometimes there's no reason at all, but you should take a rest and take care of yourself,"

They stayed in silence for a while, Francis' gaze kept on wandering to the window, to the outline of the greenhouse everytime he sipped on his wine.

Footsteps approached the kitchen and a voice cut through the silence. "Hey, how's it going? I smell something delicious,"

Yao turned to see Alfred leaning on the doorframe, fidgeting with his hands. Sadik gave him a light pat on the shoulder before bussing himself with the crustini.

"How on earth did you get the time to study medicine, then psychiatry and gastronomy?"

"I didn't study gastronomy." Yao said, putting away the wine bottle. "In order to study psychiatry, one has to go through medical school. Cooking is something I'm used to doing, my father wasn't too keen on paying for a personal chef even though he barely cooked himself, eventually, I took on that task."