[Something inside of Mikleo's chest flutters and dives and he feels a little lightheaded because of it. Or maybe that's because he hasn't eaten in a while? Either way, he's pleased at the contact and the feeling of Eren's fingertips pressing into his hair and neck. He is... slightly enamored, perhaps. The Bond certainly helps.]
Yeah. And I appreciate it.
[And then the moment is over. It's a comfortable sort of silence after that, where Mikleo tests the doneness of the potatoes with a fork. Satisfied, he motions for Eren to take the pan off the heat. Then Mikleo adds a little heavy cream and bits of grated cheese into the bubbling mixture, which thickens slightly as it gets cooler.]
It's done.
[He realizes belatedly that he didn't make tea, but he's barely conscious enough to blow on his soup right now. Rather than the table, he elects to curl up on one end of the couch, and he pats the seat beside him in invitation.]
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Yeah. And I appreciate it.
[And then the moment is over. It's a comfortable sort of silence after that, where Mikleo tests the doneness of the potatoes with a fork. Satisfied, he motions for Eren to take the pan off the heat. Then Mikleo adds a little heavy cream and bits of grated cheese into the bubbling mixture, which thickens slightly as it gets cooler.]
It's done.
[He realizes belatedly that he didn't make tea, but he's barely conscious enough to blow on his soup right now. Rather than the table, he elects to curl up on one end of the couch, and he pats the seat beside him in invitation.]
Come on, this is more comfortable.