Space Man

Off Server

Keralis POV

Xisuma's kitchen was a marvel most of the time—organized, stocked with gadgets I didn’t even know existed, and gleaming with that meticulous care he put into everything. But today? Today, it seemed like the cupboards were mocking me. I stood there, staring into the fridge with my hands on my hips, wondering if I could make a meal out of condiments and an old block of cheese.

“Shishwammy,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head. “When was the last time you or Xavier went shopping?” The fridge’s faint hum was the only response, and it wasn’t a comforting one.

I rifled through the shelves, eventually coming across some eggs, a handful of vegetables that looked like they’d seen better days, and half a loaf of bread. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

Grabbing what I could salvage, I set everything out on the counter and started brainstorming. A simple stir-fry? Maybe an omelet? My fingers hovered over the knife block as I glanced at the ingredients again. “Guess we’re improvising,” I said to myself.

As I worked, the kitchen began to fill with the warm, savory aroma of sautéing onions and peppers. The sound of sizzling oil was oddly soothing, a nice contrast to the quiet hum of the house. I couldn’t help but think about Xisuma—his serious expression as he worked, the way he jumped earlier when I’d walked in, and how he’d asked me to stay.

That request had caught me off guard in the best way. It wasn’t often that he let his guard down like that, and hearing him say it so openly had made something in my chest ache in a way I couldn’t quite put into words.

I glanced at the stove, giving the pan a quick shake before cracking a couple of eggs into a bowl. “Shishwammy,” I murmured softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “What am I going to do with you?"

I considered adding a bit of spice, maybe some chili flakes or a dash of paprika to liven things up, but I hesitated. Xisuma didn’t strike me as someone who enjoyed overwhelming flavors, and the last thing I wanted was to make something he wouldn’t touch.

So, I stuck with the basics—just a sprinkle of salt and a pinch of freshly cracked pepper. Simple, reliable, and enough to bring out the natural flavors of the ingredients. The scent of the sautéed vegetables mingled with the eggs I was now scrambling, and I nodded to myself in approval.

“Keep it simple,” I murmured. “Shishwammy likes simple.”

As the food came together, I plated everything neatly—eggs on one side, the stir-fried veggies on the other, and a couple of slices of lightly toasted bread for good measure. It wasn’t fancy, but it was hearty and warm.

“Breakfast for lunch, I guess,” I muttered with a chuckle, wiping my hands on a dish towel as I looked over my work. Hopefully, it was enough to pull Xisuma out of his focused haze, at least for a little while.

I know I said I would call him when lunch was done, but as I stood there looking at the plates I’d just prepared, a different idea crept into my mind. He’d been cooped up in that office all morning, probably forgetting to eat or drink anything again. Knowing him, he’d dismiss it if I brought it up.

I glanced toward the door, then back at the plates. "He needs to take a break," I muttered under my breath, grabbing the plates and balancing them carefully.

Making my way to his office, I found him hunched over his desk, holographic panels flickering as his fingers moved swiftly over a keyboard. He didn’t even notice me enter. His antennas twitched slightly, pinned back in that telltale sign of deep concentration.

“Shishwammy?” I said softly. No response.

I sighed, walking closer and setting the plates down on a small side table. Placing my hands gently on his shoulders, I leaned in just enough for my voice to carry. “Xisuma, lunch is ready. You’re taking a break now.”