Cold Stew - One Shot

Cold Stew

     
        "Hey Phil, we're going out." He perked up, looking to see Tommy, Wilbur, and Techno standing at the door. It cracked slightly, a sword in all of their hands. He glanced down at the stew he was making, before sighing.
       "Please be back before 6, dinners gonna be ready then." Tommy huffed,
        "Ok Phil, we will. Bye!" They ran off, before he could even utter a goodbye. He didn't know what the three were up to without him. Probably starting another war at the Dream Smp. He wasn't too sure about what was going on there, but Will has been wearing that trench coat lately. Luckily the three visited their house often, Phil spending most of his time there.

       Since it was so close to his hardcore world, he would just fly there, do some stuff, fly back and make some dinner for the boys. They often came back hungry. Or slightly injured, rambling on about their day at the Smp. Sometimes, they didn't come back. So he ate alone.

       Phil slowly stirred the stew, grabbing a spoon as he lightly dipped it into the food. Bringing the stew to his lips as he tasted it. He hummed, smiling. It is creamy and smooth, a wonderful soup.
        "Ah, they'll love this!" Phil exclaimed. It was one of their favorite stews. Potato soup. Maybe a nice warm meal would cheer them up more, after all, he heard the three were having a rough time. Surely the stew will make them smile.

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      "Huh. It's almost six." Phil muttered, taking out four bowls. He poured the stew into each one, setting the steaming soup onto the table. Laying spoons and napkins next to the stew. Lowering the heat on the stove, as to keep it warm if they wanted seconds. The bubbling slowly disappearing into a small simmer.

       Phil sat down, looking at the stew before watching the door. He wouldn't eat yet, just until they came back. Phil looked back at the stew. Maybe one sip wouldn't hurt. So he picked up the spoon, dipped it in and took a sip. Humming at the warm liquid that pooled in his mouth. No wonder Techno loved this.

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       It was now 7 pm. They hadn't come. Phil's bowl now empty as he already ate all of the soup. But the other three? Cold. Spoons still untouched and soup no longer steaming. It felt lonely sitting at the huge table as one. Like he had inviting people to a party and no one came. Phil sighed and picked up his bowl, looks like they didn't come back. He dropped it into the sink, carefully picking up the other bowls and pouring them back into the pot. He stirred it, laying the now empty bowls next to it. They could just serve themselves once they came back.

       Phil was hoping to eat with them and talk. Listen to Wilbur and Tommy banter, with Techno jumping in with a few quips. Or Tommy excitedly rambling about the events of the server, or complaining. Will going silent. Or maybe even deciding to sing a song. Techno bragging about a fight he won. The amount of potatoes he farmed. Even a sarcastic word or two.

       That's what Phil was hoping for. Ah, stop that Phil. Their just busy with a war and all. No need to be all sad and selfish. He can't force them to eat with him, that'd be rude. So, Phil went to bed. Not knowing what else to do.

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      When Phil woke up, they still hadn't come back. He looked to see the bowls still there, not in the sink. Spoons still sitting by them, not used. He frowned, feeling an odd pang in his chest. Guess they didn't want his soup... Even when he worked so hard- no. They are probably just busy. Stop that Phil. Giving himself a small slap on the wrist for the negative thoughts.

       He puffed his chest and plopped his hat on his head. Maybe he will do some house work while he waits for the three. They could just have the soup then! Smiling, a flash of determination for the three to eat the stew. He wondered why he felt so compelled to have them eat the soup.