"You did well. Seriously. But how are you allowed to live in the house?" * * * She looked at the door as he left, pulling her knees closer to herself.
She huffed. "While I'm not always welcome, I'm an essential part of my tribe. Do you have any idea how many inventions I've made to aid them in the past?" She crossed her arms stubbornly. "Too many. But they owe me that much to let me stay inside." *** (Zoop!) Osiris had returned home. He lay on his bed with a frown, his head on his arms as he pined in thought. He didn't understand. The more he thought the more he felt confused and unsure.
He raised his hands in surrender, his eyes narrowing. "I never doubted that you were important." * * * Dahlia also sat on her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest.
"No, no, I'm not accusing you of that," she said, heading inside before turning to him menacingly. "I'm their slave!" she said, in an exaggerated, spooky voice. *** (Zoop?)
"I see. I'll have to remember that." * * * (One of them has to approach the other. Do you think Dahlia's gonna be the one to do it?)
She sighed, smiling slightly. "Anyways.. Can I interest you in tea?" *** A few days later, there was a knock on her door.
He seemed surprised, tilting his head. "You have tea?" * * * She sniffled, not even looking up from her place on the bed where she had been for the last few days. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had a blanket over her head. "No one's home!" she croaked.
She tilted her head. "Yeah. I have access to the kitchen, so.. tea leaves." *** He frowned, opening the door a crack. "Dahlia?"
"Fascinating. I haven't had tea since I was a kid." * * * There was a shuffling on the bed and she poked her head out weakly. "Cy...?"
"I would love some," he said, sounding like he truly meant it. * * * She sniffled, retreating under the covers again. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice muffled.
She grinned, adding water to a makeshift kettle and lighting heat. *** He approached the room, hesitating. "I came to visit you."
He leaned against the wall, looking around curiously. * * * She coughed before talking, looking out from under her sheets again. "Why?"
There weren't many decorations, making the walls look bare. Everything else looked barely touched aside from the bed and desk. *** He frowned. "Because I wanted to. You're my best friend."
"We need to paint the walls," he said decisively. * * * She sniffled, looking up at him. "I'm all sick right now. You shouldn't want to be around. Besides, we fought."
