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Ardbert had long since forgotten the feeling of being hungry. It wasn’t that hunger or any other physical feeling of need was no longer a part of him -- it was more that when one “lives” for as long as he has, unable to quench the most basic of human desires, one simply gets used to feeling without.
Perhaps, he thinks to himself as he stands in Nara’s room at the Pendants, it was the shock of being acknowledged for the first time a hundred years that brought back that old familiar feeling in his gut. The barren, clawing, dull sensation in the middle of his stomach, the dryness in his throat. His eyes wander to the basket of neatly cut sandwiches on the table beside them, trying his best not to give in to the longing — not that those feelings could be sated regardless.
It’s then that he notices Nara’s eyes have wandered to them as well — they had been talking for hours, just another night of idle banter between old friends after a long day of fighting, and she had not touched a single one. She does this often, he notes to himself, and each time it’s the same conversation.
“Please eat,” he says, trying his best to crack a smile. “I can all but see you salivating.”
Nara tears her eyes from the basket with an embarrassed simper. “I’d feel terrible.”
“At least you wouldn’t feel hungry,” Ardbert replies. His shoulder twitches, as if his next move is to grab one of the sandwich halves and hand it to her, but he manages to stop himself, knowing that seeing his fingers sweep straight through them would make them both feel worse.
“I’ll eat when you’ve gone for the night,” Nara offers, waving her hand dismissively and smiling kindly at him.
“I’ll go when you’ve eaten,” he challenges, chuckling to himself as Nara lets out a frustrated huff and clasps her hands in her lap.
Ardbert puffs up, folding his arms tightly across his chest in triumph as he watches her grab a sandwich from the pile and reluctantly takes a small bite, avoiding his gaze as she chews.
“You’re still as stubborn as ever,” she grumbles, wiping a stay breadcrumb from her lips with the back of her free hand.
“And you’re still a martyr,” Ardbert jokes, trying his best to resist becoming too enthralled with watching her eat — not that he could remember what anything tasted like anyway. He had rarely been indulgent when it came to meals while he was still able to enjoy them, eating purely as a function, viewing food as mere fuel for the next few hours of his day.
It’s always funny the little things that come up during his visits with Nara — one never truly knows what they’ve taken advantage of until it’s no longer theirs to avail.
Three sandwiches later, Ardbert begins to notice Nara’s eyes get heavy. It would be dawn in only a few short hours and he knows she has another long day ahead of her.
“These are so good,” she groans sleepily at the still half-full box. “I really want another one, but I’m so full.”
“Just go for it,” Ardbert laughs warmly, watching her slouch downward into her chair.
“But what if I explode?” Nara asks pitifully, picking up another sandwich and turning it in her hands, contemplating it.
“Then the Sin Eaters win and my death will have been for nothing,” he says, an endearing look in his eyes. “But at least you won’t be hungry.”