Dia walked out from the linen closet, she'd just finished putting the clean laundry away after switching the sheets on the bed. "Hey handsome, I was getting worried..." She stopped short, seeing his tired look and the stiff way he was holding himself. "What happened to you?" She asked softly. "Have you eaten yet?" It was an odd question to ask after the first one, but it was the very next thing that popped into her mind. She sincerely doubted he'd eaten.
She stopped short of actually touching him, not wanting to hurt him even accidentially, "Here let me take the bag." She said reaching for it.
He smiled a little more at seeing her and when she reached for the bag, he just stepped closer to wrap her in his arms. Never mind hurting. Never mind at all. His voice held a sigh, one of contentment, as he rested his cheek against her hair. "I'm sorry I am late. Stephen gave me a fright and I wasn't sure it was a reasonable idea to leave him on his own and..." Deep breath, taking in her scent. "And now I'm here. He's home, too, and I think will be all right." Just because he finished what he started, you know.
Max pulled back just a little, to smile down at her. And then it turned a bit self-mocking. "We sparred. He's still better with those swords than I am." Which wasn't why he was this sore, no, but it was adding to it. "We both ended up a bit worse for the wear after it. And... no. I haven't." Eaten.
Dia held him. "It's fine. I'm glad you're home." She wanted to ask more but held her tongue. She could ask later. Right now she was just focused on taking care of her man.
She reached up to lightly cup his cheek. "Let's get you fed and then into bed. You're going to hurt tomorrow. You want to sit here in the kitchen or eat in bed? I'll fry you up an omelet unless you had something specific you'd like."
She carefully took his bag and set it to one side. Then grabbing his arm and looping it through hers, so she could give him that little extra support.
"Kitchen should be fine." Less work for her to do before and after. More time for her to be in the same room as him. Holding him. That felt good, very good. His lips quirked up at the way she took his hand. "I'm sore and bruised a bit, not an invalid, you know." He lifted her hand to kiss it, holding it closely among his fingers for a moment, then instead snaked his arm around her back. Painkilles, he could use. Worrying her more than was necessary, they could both do without.
... which is the moment his stomach decides to 'speak up' and he grins. "I do believe that's supposed to mean omelet is good, unless there are leftovers which I could chew on without you having to work at all. Did you have anything yourself?"
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She stopped short of actually touching him, not wanting to hurt him even accidentially, "Here let me take the bag." She said reaching for it.
Reply
Max pulled back just a little, to smile down at her. And then it turned a bit self-mocking. "We sparred. He's still better with those swords than I am." Which wasn't why he was this sore, no, but it was adding to it. "We both ended up a bit worse for the wear after it. And... no. I haven't." Eaten.
Reply
She reached up to lightly cup his cheek. "Let's get you fed and then into bed. You're going to hurt tomorrow. You want to sit here in the kitchen or eat in bed? I'll fry you up an omelet unless you had something specific you'd like."
She carefully took his bag and set it to one side. Then grabbing his arm and looping it through hers, so she could give him that little extra support.
Reply
... which is the moment his stomach decides to 'speak up' and he grins. "I do believe that's supposed to mean omelet is good, unless there are leftovers which I could chew on without you having to work at all. Did you have anything yourself?"
Reply
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