Silently did she sip on a small straw, glaring downwards at the table. Her straight hair sat messily atop her face, that of which kept a solid, emotionless expression.
Somehow, her appearance was strikingly comforting to Nephyr. After all, he felt as though she was the closest thing he had to an ally, even with the tenuous-at-best relationship they shared.
And yet, before he could say a word after having walked over, a voice from the side quickly chimed in.
"Well well well," Rune drawled, leaning back against the cushioned booth as a slight smirk began to curl on his lips. "You invited the new guy, too. How sweet~"
His voice was lilting with that of mockery, seemingly giving Patches a slight annoyance. "So? Why wouldn't I?"
From the corner of his eye, he could see Patches move slightly out of the way — legs swinging from out under the table and firmly into the walkway, body laying as close as possible to the side as if to provide a pathway through.
Nephyr, sensing her intentions, quickly sauntered to her side, shuffling his way through and settling into his seat.
The basket of goods he placed just off to the side so as not to intervene with them, though that was quickly met with Rune pulling it closer to him and glaring inside.
"So, is this what Elior sent you out for?"
His shifty hands rummaged through the basket, taking a brief moment to examine and scoff at all the "useless" junk he pulled out.
By now, Patches had already settled back into her position, eyes now wordlessly studying him. "He did receive an oddly long list."
"Yeah, I can see that. The man only asked for a bunch of junk..." He collapsed back into his seat, as if saddened by the retrieved items, "Why can he never task us with getting anything cool?"
"Because 'cool' doesn't put food on the table, Rune."
"Right right, I understand that..." He waved off.
Nephyr was slightly confused. Not necessarily by their odd family dynamic, but mostly due to the fact that he had yet to order any food. Sensing his dismay, Rune spoke up. "What's wrong, new guy?"
"Ah, it's just that... shouldn't we put in our order-?"
"Don't worry about that," Rune interrupted, "Me and Patchy already put it in. Drinks are usually on the house, so you don't have to worry about that. But that aside, I have a question for you, 'Nephyr.'"
He gulped. "What is it?"
"It's nothing major, but... I couldn't help but notice you look... boring and typical. I'm I to assume you haven't been created yet?"
"Created..?" Nephyr murmured, a slight rasp appearing in his voice, "what do you mean?"
"Elior doesn't find his stars," Patches cut in, "He never does. He preys on the weak and creates them."
His mind couldn't help but jump back to what Patches said earlier. How Elior viewed him as weak. It felt as though his heart began to melt and churn into his stomach.
He didn't know the true depth of its meaning, but he knew he would soon. He could feel it deep down inside him.
It felt as though he faded into the background. While the others were communing, he was there in his own thoughts.
This was all the way until it was time to leave. The clock on the wall ticked into the final hour. It was nearly noon — the time the man beckoned for them to return by.
It was time to return home. To Elior.