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[vecna]

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[velluminous]

[ somehow, it feels as though something has changed between them.

but then again, she's drunk.

with the slow precision of someone already well into their cups, she turns the mug towards her, ceramic scraping quietly on the tabletop. slips her fingers through the handle. brings the mug steadfast to her lips and chances a sip that would burn her tongue if she were any more human, but as it is, only tingles.

be honest with me. how good is it? ]

[vecna]

[Because he's amiable today? Because their arguing has been at a minimum? He might argue that's a net positive, Sprezzatura.

Honestly: it isn't bad. It isn't mind-blowingly great, either. But Henry watches, quietly, as though seeking out some manner of approval, given his first attempt (which feels so long ago) was less than perfect.]

[velluminous]

[ she very subtly Prestidigitates it. very subtly. ]

It is better. [ with a soft, small smile ] You will be quite skilled, soon.

[vecna]

[WOW RUDE!!!

But she gets away with it. Henry actually laughs lightly at that.]

Well, I don't know about that.

[velluminous]

[ it's so rare to hear him laugh. she wishes she could hear more of it. ] You have... nowhere to go but up, Mister Creel.

[vecna]

[The number of sincere instances of laughter can be counted on one hand since his arrival to Reverie. That said, she's been privy to most of them.]

I've been nothing but spoiled by you, my teammates, and a few strangers when it comes to food in this place. The very least I can do is manage a halfway decent cup of coffee on my own.

[Baby steps. This will be a useless skill for him, anyway, should they ever return home.]

[velluminous]

[ "teammates". she does note that, the way she always notes it. maybe a little more bleary than her usual, though. ]

I should get bottle of good wine, make coq au vin. You would never recover.

[vecna]

[A teammate is more accurate, but who’s keeping track?]

“Coq au vin”?

[Alas, Henry does not know what that is.]

/2

[velluminous]

Cock with wine.

[velluminous]

[ SLAMS THE TABLE ] —Rooster!

[vecna]

[HIS MUG JOSTLES, he holds onto it to keep it steady.]

And why wouldn't I recover from "cock with wine"? [Poor, vaguely sloshed Sprezzatura.]

[velluminous]

Because it is sumptuous! So buttery on your tongue, richness you dream of after. And is it kind of dish that appeals to most, since you were so picky about my draniki.

[vecna]

Picky? I ate it, didn’t I?

[velluminous]

Did you... did you love it?

[vecna]

It was a potato pancake, Sprezzatura.

It was good.

[velluminous]

[ flushes; she hears how pitiable she sounds ]

I just want you to--

[vecna]

[A brow arching. He wonders what she's struggling so much to relay; either the drink's made her lips looser, or her tongue more liable to fumble.]

...Approve?

[velluminous]

[ approve. ]

Never mind. It is stupid.

[vecna]

[Like he's going to leave it at that.]

No, it's not. Tell me.

[velluminous]

[ it's fine if you hate me. ]

I want you to—like me.

[vecna]

Sprezzatura.

[His brows scrunch together at this.]

After everything, surely you don't think that I don't like you?

[velluminous]

...

[ mumbles half-heartedly ]

[vecna]

[He can't hear you! Or he wishes to hear the sentiment loud and clear.]

What's that?

[velluminous]

I surely am not worth my moods!

[ always fighting him, always a moment away from collapsing everything. people who liked her more have walked away from her for less, so--Mammon, how did she even start thinking about this? ]

[vecna]

[Henry doesn't respond right away, eyes searching her face. He lifts his mug to his lips, taking a sip of his own (perfectly fine) coffee.]

If your moods bothered me as much as you think they do, wouldn't I have given up long before now? I'm just as stubborn as you. I've weathered worse storms before.

[He sets his mug back down.]

...Losing your teammate must have really shaken you.