She's still asleep. Being sick always takes it out of her.
( of course it does. a cold on top of her autoimmune disease just makes everything worse and prax is so glad for the fact that mei is resilient, that she's cheerful and leads a happy life despite her illness. that pancakes during sick days still make her smile even when she's feverish. )
( it's a simple statement. three years ago, maybe two years ago, it wouldn't have come out so easily, so matter of factly. prax has made his peace with it, though he knows he'll never be able to forgive her for leaving mei. )
If you could mix? ( he glances at amos' arms as he says it. can't help himself. )
[ It's the best he can do - he's not exactly the comforting type. And he's been alone for most of his life (one night stands, surely, cannot count to someone like Prax), so it's not like he can relate, exactly.
He looks down at his hands, feeling like the whole of him is too big, too bulky, taking too much space in Prax's kitchen. He jumps at the chance to occupy them, and nods. ]
Yeah, sure, I can do that. Just point me to things.
( it wasn't, for a long time. it is now. ) I just wish Mei didn't have to grow up without a mother. ( that's why he minds it. not for his own sake, but for mei's. she's already sick and he can't help her with that beyond making pancakes on the days she gets a cold on top of everything else, besides being there for her. he can't fix her.
he's better with plants, always has been. )
I'll measure out the ingredients. Just - there's a bowl in that cabinet. The blue one. ( it should feel more awkward than this to have someone amos' size in his kitchen, to have amos in his kitchen who's virtually a stranger, for all that he's featured in some of prax's dreams. )
Or — if you want, you can have a beer? And just. Sit? I'm sorry. I don't think I should be putting my guest to work.
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( of course it does. a cold on top of her autoimmune disease just makes everything worse and prax is so glad for the fact that mei is resilient, that she's cheerful and leads a happy life despite her illness. that pancakes during sick days still make her smile even when she's feverish. )
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What about her mom?
[ He's never seen a woman around, but that doesn't mean anything, right? Hopefully he didn't step his foot in it. ]
D'you want any help? I'm no chef, but I can do pancakes.
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( it's a simple statement. three years ago, maybe two years ago, it wouldn't have come out so easily, so matter of factly. prax has made his peace with it, though he knows he'll never be able to forgive her for leaving mei. )
If you could mix? ( he glances at amos' arms as he says it. can't help himself. )
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[ It's the best he can do - he's not exactly the comforting type. And he's been alone for most of his life (one night stands, surely, cannot count to someone like Prax), so it's not like he can relate, exactly.
He looks down at his hands, feeling like the whole of him is too big, too bulky, taking too much space in Prax's kitchen. He jumps at the chance to occupy them, and nods. ]
Yeah, sure, I can do that. Just point me to things.
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( it wasn't, for a long time. it is now. ) I just wish Mei didn't have to grow up without a mother. ( that's why he minds it. not for his own sake, but for mei's. she's already sick and he can't help her with that beyond making pancakes on the days she gets a cold on top of everything else, besides being there for her. he can't fix her.
he's better with plants, always has been. )
I'll measure out the ingredients. Just - there's a bowl in that cabinet. The blue one. ( it should feel more awkward than this to have someone amos' size in his kitchen, to have amos in his kitchen who's virtually a stranger, for all that he's featured in some of prax's dreams. )
Or — if you want, you can have a beer? And just. Sit? I'm sorry. I don't think I should be putting my guest to work.