#charr commander

“Tired, old man?” she cooed. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as he shook his head in good humor.

“We’re the same age, dear heart,” he reminded her. His pleasant weight left her side for a moment as he leaned forward to take his mug of coffee. The scent pricked at her nose, familiar and welcoming. “But yes, only a little. It’s been hard.”

“I know.” She picked up her knitting needles and her latest project. The sweater was only half-finished, and she’d spent the better part of a month’s free time working on it. Her needles click click clicked together as she resumed her work. “Remember that you can always ask me for help if you need it.”

“I can do well enough on my own most days. It simply… adds up.”

“And I am right here for you.” Craning her head to the side, she pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. They lapsed into silence again, broken only by his quiet drinking and the click of her needles.

Whether he didn’t notice or ignored the growing tremor in his arms, Trahearne only realized that his grip was slipping a moment too late. With a quiet yelp, the mug slipped from his hands. Coffee spilled across both his and Lurerie’s laps and seeped into the finished portion of the sweater. Lurerie stared blankly down at the mess, her paws frozen in the air.

“Stars, I’m so sorry, I didn’t… I ruined your work… is there any way—”

Lurerie carefully set aside the heap of yarn. She pressed one claw to his lips, silencing him. “The damage is done,” she said, not unkindly. “It’s alright, I’ll just clean this up and see what I can salvage. We’ll both need a bath, too, it seems… are you okay? Your drink was pretty hot.”

“I’ll live.” He managed a smile, weak though it was. “But to think that I can hardly hold a cup anymore…”