you are a church of broken glass and hallelujahs. you are haunted like every other holy thing. what tried to destroy you didn't have the strength. still you stand. sturdy and smelling of smoke.
"I doubt you came all the way just to leave again. Although I ๐๐ข surprised Lia didn't straight up kick you out.."
He produced two glasses from a compartment in his desk and pulled a second chair closer with mage hand.
"Sit."
"Share?" for a moment, the older tiefling stands there blinking in astonishment. "Ah, if you insist, I'd be delighted to join you."
He reaches in and pulls out a bottle of wine.
"I wasn't resting!" He protest, quickly sitting up straight and fixing the lose strands of hair that had escaped the knot at the back of his head.
His gaze followed the other tiefling's gesture.
"Ohโ that's very kind of you. Well. Since you're already here, we could share?"
"Ah," he stops, his hands still poised upon the young wizard's shoulders, "Apologies."
His words are spoken in a whisper, "I didn't mean to disturb your rest."
Zevlor pauses to smile and motioned to the basket next to him. "I brought you something for supper."
Oh...
Well, he's just going to place the basket of goodies he brought off next to the young man and instead drape a blanket over his shoulders.
He would help Rolan to bed, but he doesn't want to disturb him.
for all your obedience, they'd given you a crown; woven of thorns & piercing roots, bleeding you dry with each slight movement. you'd thanked them for it as beads of scarlet rolled from your temple to your jaw.
The tiefling certainly doesn't trust the sudden change in attitude, but sits down anyway, if rather stiffly, hands resting in his lap.
"I โ thank you. Did you need help with anything..?"
"Of course, Master Lorroakan."
He scurries away and returns with wine, as promised, carefully setting it down next to him.
Hoping he was no longer needed, he slowly removes himself.