The third law [Terzo x Reader]

Lesson # 1: Coffee

For several minutes now, Terzo has been rummaging through the low cabinet in the kitchen, the one in which, since he began to indulge in a less strict diet, given the end of his career, he kept snacks and sweets. Little sins of gluttony that he usually keeps there in case of afternoon hunger attacks. Usually each stash lasts but a couple of days, but now there seems to be nothing left.

It all seems terribly boring since he has been in that wheelchair; frustrated, he sighs, abandoning himself limply on the seat. Other than watching TV, listening to music or reading, he just doesn't know how to pass the time, plus you're not with him, busy doing the shopping in town.

Just as he thinks about it, he hears the door close and quick footsteps approach the kitchen. He sees you arrive quickly and place a fairly full bag on the table, greeting him when you see him.

"I picked up a few things," you say, starting to rummage through the bag to arrange everything in the fridge.

He nods, takes a quick look at the items, obviously disappointed. "Can you get something like snacks and crisps next time, too? Also beers." he asks, approaching you.

You frown slightly at that request but nod convinced. "Sure. You could have told me earlier..."

"I thought there was still something left." he explains "But I must have run out of everything before I even got to the hospital."

"Oh, okay." you say simply, continuing to put away what you bought. "Sweets and snacks weren't on the list, so I didn't think to get any."

"Do you have a list?" he asks, intrigued, "Can I see it?"

"Yes, one...second." you rummage through your pockets. When you finally find it, you hand it to him without hesitation.

"Did Sister Imperator write it?" His gaze scrolls quickly, frowning and widening from time to time, as if surprised at some of the points, "I'm surprised there's no cyanide in it." He comments wryly - actually, maybe not even too much, "There's nothing funny in it, just drugs and healthy foods, sad and heartless as she is." he comments in an unchanged, serious tone as he continues reading while keeping the list distant from his eyes, "Remember to add snacks." He concludes by handing it to you again.

Meanwhile, you have tied your hair and rolled up your sleeves past the elbow. "Sure... What would you like for lunch?"

"Anything goes for me." he simply replies.

Interjected, you raise your eyebrows. "Should you...narrow it down?"

Terzo seems to think about it, trying to give concrete form to the hunger he feels right now. "Maybe ... spaghetti? With fresh cherry tomatoes and basil." he nods.

"Spaghetti. Okay." you repeat "And then what else?"

He reflects about it some more, going over the items on your shopping list. "Did you get the meat for the cutlets?"

"Cutlets." you simply repeat, looking for what you need to cook. "It's all there." you declare, pulling the container of meat out of the bag. Spaghetti with fresh cherry tomatoes and cutlets, a pretty simple menu for a rock star pontiff, you think.

You begin to spread out the ingredients you need on the countertop as he moves around you, seeming almost eager to say something. "You know," he begins in fact, "one of the things I've had the hardest time getting used to since retirement is dieting."

"What do you mean?"

"When you're doing a job like mine, when you're on tour, you have to go on a pretty strict diet to keep up the pace of work," he begins to explain, stealing a small, freshly washed cherry tomato to eat raw, "It's for all intents and purposes a workout. And like athletes, when you abandon it, the body can collapse in an instant. The Ministry demands its representatives to always be fit and perfectly tidy."