@delivereds
.. i’m trying to grade papers. why are you here, mister khaslana?
your attempts are no less in vain than they were the last time we spoke about this. i hope you’re aware of that.
@bIasphemer⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ maybe it does, maybe it doesn't! that's for me to know, and for you to find out!
i offered to baby sit for a colleague. (..) babies are awfully.. cute when they’re sleeping.
excuse me? we’ve been over this. i’m too old for you.
just ignore his staring. i’ve no idea what he’s got on his mind.
@bIasphemer⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ what a relief... i was so nervous about making a good impression that i was tossing and turning all night.
why do you want to meet my family so badly, hm? i wouldn’t even know where to begin that conversation with my cousin concerning the age difference.
pft- c'mere, you've got something..
[ it had been a busy day, and while mydeimos understands the difficulties of working in a coffee shop, he also knows that not getting an adequate amount of sleep factors into that. by the amount of espressos phainon's had, it's honestly kinda scary when mydei prevents him from getting to it after it's poured, only noticing that his coworker has some whipped cream on his nose. it's entirely endearing and heartwarming all the same, softening with fondness. mydei reaches a finger up, wiping it off. ] can't say i don't treat you well.
@delivereds you can have a /decaf/. are you going until your body can't take anymore, idiot ? you'll give yourself a heart attack. [ while mydeimos didn't intend to be lecturing the one person who knows as much about coffee as he does, he finds himself pinching the man's cheek for his actions. ] eat something instead.
@hailstrife⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ ( phainon blinks, a soft pink hue decorating his cheeks—- gaping at the swipe against his nose. how embarrassing. he always has whipped cream with his coffee, but he's been getting pretty good with not making a mess until now. phainon coughs, almost awkwardly, but plays it off like he's just clearing his throat. ) well uh, thank you mydeimos? (..) can i please have my coffee now.
.. leave it.
[ the mutter comes from under his breath, but it's more to himself than khaslana. ever since he'd gotten his husband back home, whenever they went out in public, people would stare. specifically, at lana. perhaps it was because he looked tired from the fatigued nights that he spent waking up screaming from nightmares, a ptsd so haunting he had to be held in mydei's arms while hushed reassurances were pressed to the shell of his ear, with a kiss purely meant to comfort. or maybe, it's because he clings to mydei's side just to have him close as a reminder that he's loved by /someone/. whatever the reason, their hushed giggles make his blood boil, grip tightening on his husband's hand before he let's go, willing himself to put it to an end. ]
@hailstrife⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ maiming, not kill. (..) id have avoided fatal damage. ( he says it so matter of factly, that its almost scary. almost, because khaslana would rather die than lay a hand to mydei. he threads their fingers together, and squeezes. ) i gave you my word. but maiming was never compromised.
@delivereds [ keys.. ? oh. khaslana was thinking of taking his car keys to stab someone. somewhere along the line, he feels guulty for making the first move and provoking that protectiveness he /knows/ his husband has. they could have avoided it if it were the mydei from five years ago, just happily married and feeling like he was on top of the world. ] you can't do that. not here, not /anywhere/. the killing stopped the second you left that hell, don't go breaking your promises to me so easily..
@hailstrife⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ ( he drops the man with a soft blink— then glances over at mydei. he walks back to his husband, taking mydei's hand back into his. ) he's fine. i didn't hurt him. ( khaslana pauses, then lowers his voice. ) would've grabbed your keys to stab him, but i figured it was more trouble than it worth. didn't want you to get banned from the store because of me. .. we should get the stuff we came here for and go.
[ the chatter and frequent bicker isn't an unusual occurrence on a day to day basis for the two of them, but over the course of these past months, it's become increasingly obvious that something has been on the deliverer's mind. whether that be his duties as okhema's esteemed warrior, or.. something else, hidden away in the deepest depths of phainon's mind. it's another round of their discussion when the prince finds he's been leading this conversation for far too long, raising a hand to grip the swordsman's chin with sharp nails, forcing their wandered gaze onto mydeimos' blazing amber. ] up here.
@delivereds [ the grasp slips when his hand is moved off of the man's chin, retracting back as he folds his arms over his chest (is he covering it on purpose.. ?), an eyebrow furrowing. ] something's been on your mind, that much is easy to tell. give it up.
@hailstrife⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ ( his eyes flick over when mydei grabs his chin, breath hitching and the hue of his cheeks flushing a rosey pink. he coughs, sputtering on his words as the cerulean of the deliverer's eyes grow wide. ) ah... i.. ahem, sorry, sorry— ( he stumbles on his words, hand gentle in the way it moves mydei's hand away from his chin. his heart hammers in his chest, pounding between his ears. )
hey ..i won't be gone long, don't worry. i'll come back.
[ maybe.. it had been because khaslana was the observant kind, catching the little hints even if mydeimos hadn't meant to make them so openly obvious. one day, mydei had come home shivering from the cold outside, winters bite flushing his features as he blew into his hands in a poor attempt to warm them (he had ended up showering after.. things). today had been another one of those days, but in the morning, khaslana had gifted him a pair of gloves they personally knitted to keep his hands from getting too cold throughout the day. the bell rings above the door, even when the sign outside says they're closed. mydeimos looks up, gloves still on, confused at the presence. ] we're closed– oh ..it's you. ///
@hailstrife⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ what a shame. ( khaslana pulls his hands away when he's done, cheeks a bit pink. he pauses, then looks over at mydei hopefully. ) do you need help down here?
@delivereds i've been working all day, i'm not going to be freshly washed. [ the baker snorts, though he finds his molten gaze drifting to khaslana's hands on his hair, carefully twisting his locks back into the braid without tugging too much. ]
@hailstrife⸒ ᝰ.ᐟ you're all messy. ( he mutters, his nose crinkling. he frowns, gently redoing the man's braid as his brows furrowed together in focus. )