The kitchen turned quiet for a moment, an emotion akin to melancholy almost rising up and rippling through it. But it was so faint, so light that it would not have been easy for a normal person to perceive it, someone not involved in the situation. Still, that was normal because they were used to it, to their situation.
After decades of pain, not getting used to it would have been abnormal instead, and reveling in it, while sad and pitiful, would not be impossible either.
It took a moment for the silence to be broken by Ryan who resumed helping Daemon:
"Still, nothing will change the fact that I'm not interested."
"Oh."
Daemon's dull monosyllabic answer didn't reassure the young man in his wheelchair. His lips twitched instead, as he sent a glance Daemon's way from the corner of his eyes. He knew that it was far from over. They both knew it, so he could only brace himself for what would come.
