LOREN
Maybe everyone needed someone every now and again. Loren wasn’t so naive to think he was immune to that. However, there was no one he felt comfortable relying on; his ability to trust in the kindness of others had been so warped by his upbringing that he would never really feel comfortable accepting help, let alone asking for it. ”There is, for me, at least in my mind.” Indeed, asking for help wouldn’t have resulted in anything for him but pain, and that’s what he associated it.
Thankfully, the dinner seemed to stifle any real conversation. Seeing as Phoebe was feeding him, the least the summoner could do was lend a hand. Or some magic. After all, he’d been raised in an enormous family, and had children at home; as scarce as Beatrix and Jace often were, he still took care of them, and Astra before them. So, as Rhett once more smeared gravy on his glasses, a cloth would float up, seemingly out of nowhere, to wipe them gently; as bits of food fell to the table (kids were messy eaters no matter how well behaved) he mopped them up with the same cloth. And as the healer put another serving on Jax’s plate, the Launceleyn gathered up all the dishes with his hands and his telekinesis, took them in the kitchen, and started washing. If Phoebe tried to stop him or take over, he’d float them far out of her reach. She’d done more than enough for him, all things considered, and he wasn’t going to be a complete freeloader here. Besides, if she was willing to cooperate in regards to the investigation, he would help out with a few chores. Seemed like the least he could do, after everything he'd put her through.
Thankfully, the dinner seemed to stifle any real conversation. Seeing as Phoebe was feeding him, the least the summoner could do was lend a hand. Or some magic. After all, he’d been raised in an enormous family, and had children at home; as scarce as Beatrix and Jace often were, he still took care of them, and Astra before them. So, as Rhett once more smeared gravy on his glasses, a cloth would float up, seemingly out of nowhere, to wipe them gently; as bits of food fell to the table (kids were messy eaters no matter how well behaved) he mopped them up with the same cloth. And as the healer put another serving on Jax’s plate, the Launceleyn gathered up all the dishes with his hands and his telekinesis, took them in the kitchen, and started washing. If Phoebe tried to stop him or take over, he’d float them far out of her reach. She’d done more than enough for him, all things considered, and he wasn’t going to be a complete freeloader here. Besides, if she was willing to cooperate in regards to the investigation, he would help out with a few chores. Seemed like the least he could do, after everything he'd put her through.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
