LOREN
The confusion on Peter’s face and in his voice was apparent, and if Loren had been capable of any emotions at all, he would’ve smiled (gently, of course) at the sight. The fact that something as simple as baking bread got that particular reaction from the other man was shocking, a little sad, and yes, downright hilarious. However, the summoner’s expression didn’t even change. ”I can bake bread.” Once upon a time, the Laucneleyns—Loren’s branch of them, at least—had been in hiding as farmers, and he’d picked up all sorts of useful skills.
”It’ll take a while to rise, but there’s some from yesterday that should still be good. Do you want anything on it? Butter, preserves, cheese, meat?” His hands reached for a nearby bowl. Placing the dough in it and covering it with a cloth, he put that on a windowsill to rise. Next he pulled half a loaf out of a nearby cabinet, along with a knife; at that point he paused, waiting to hear if Peter wanted anything else.
Something in the other man’s manner made the summoner’s heart clench. If he’d been capable of providing comfort or reassurance, he would’ve, but just then he was barely capable of speech. Still, maybe that would be enough. ”I’m glad to hear things are going well for you.” At least one member of their strange family was doing okay. That was almost encouraging. However, maybe he’d thought that too soon: Peter bit his lip so hard it bled, and that definitely wasn't a sign of things going well. Setting down the food, Loren picked up a cloth and held it out to the other man. ”You’re bleeding. I can heal it, if you’d like.” Although the summoner’s voice was still dull, his actions were at least kind enough. These days, it was a bit of a toss-up how he’d react.
However, as Peter talked about not wanting to be around the Manor, it was Loren’s turn to bite his lip, though much more gently than the other man had. Leaning a hip against a nearby the summoner’s eyes searched Peter’s face for some explanation beyond the other man's stilted words. ”You don’t have to stay here if it makes you uncomfortable. And you don’t have to be a part of this family anymore if you don’t want to.” Everyone else moved on, in one way or another. Loren was used to it by now. And he wasn’t upset or angry about it anymore, just tired. He couldn't blame Peter for feeling the same.
”It’ll take a while to rise, but there’s some from yesterday that should still be good. Do you want anything on it? Butter, preserves, cheese, meat?” His hands reached for a nearby bowl. Placing the dough in it and covering it with a cloth, he put that on a windowsill to rise. Next he pulled half a loaf out of a nearby cabinet, along with a knife; at that point he paused, waiting to hear if Peter wanted anything else.
Something in the other man’s manner made the summoner’s heart clench. If he’d been capable of providing comfort or reassurance, he would’ve, but just then he was barely capable of speech. Still, maybe that would be enough. ”I’m glad to hear things are going well for you.” At least one member of their strange family was doing okay. That was almost encouraging. However, maybe he’d thought that too soon: Peter bit his lip so hard it bled, and that definitely wasn't a sign of things going well. Setting down the food, Loren picked up a cloth and held it out to the other man. ”You’re bleeding. I can heal it, if you’d like.” Although the summoner’s voice was still dull, his actions were at least kind enough. These days, it was a bit of a toss-up how he’d react.
However, as Peter talked about not wanting to be around the Manor, it was Loren’s turn to bite his lip, though much more gently than the other man had. Leaning a hip against a nearby the summoner’s eyes searched Peter’s face for some explanation beyond the other man's stilted words. ”You don’t have to stay here if it makes you uncomfortable. And you don’t have to be a part of this family anymore if you don’t want to.” Everyone else moved on, in one way or another. Loren was used to it by now. And he wasn’t upset or angry about it anymore, just tired. He couldn't blame Peter for feeling the same.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
