Chapter Text
Osiris was many things. A genius. A stubborn teacher. A powerful Light wielder. A socialite was not one of them.
To Saint, there was no better way to end either a day of stuffy Consensus meetings or skirmishes outside the City’s partially constructed walls than to share a meal with friends. The restaurants in the Last City had flourished over the past few years, and Saint felt it was not unlike dining with family as Guardians and civilians dined elbow to elbow in noodle houses or more formal restaurants. Despite the obvious appeal, Osiris never seemed receptive to the idea.
Now, Osiris has meals with Saint on a near regular basis, be it dinner, brunch, or the occasional midnight excursion into the city when neither of them could sleep. Those were always Saint’s favorites, as sustenance options were slim in the small hours of a new day, but they always found some place still open, even if the options were limited. To Saint it did not matter, so long as Osiris would stop reading books or reports on his datapad to eat for even a moment. But getting the warlock to partake in a meal with others proved to be more troublesome than Saint had anticipated.
It was like rehabilitating a wounded animal in the wild, as though a prior experience had traumatized Osiris and he avoided the entire environment as a result. Saint could not recall anything particularly negative happening the rare few times Osiris did join him and a few others, but perhaps that’s where the issues lied. If Tallulah Fairwind had her way, dining often involved drinking, and drinking led to more drinking. Saint had stumbled home to his quarters and woke to find indents matching his large frame along the narrow halls of the Tower enough times to know that the Hunter had a constitution that few could match, himself included.
Like clockwork, once The Consensus meeting ended, Osiris gathered his data pad and headed straight for the door with Sagira at his shoulder. As Saint stared after him, Tallulah stretched her arms above her head and asked where they were dining that night.
“As long as there is alcohol, I’m game,” she commented as Saint stood slowly. “Saint? What are you feeling? There is a new sushi place near midtown. Don’t know where the hell they get fresh fish this far inland, but I’m willing to risk it.”
Saint-14 cast a glance at the meeting room’s door before responding. When he turned back to Tallulah, he caught The Speaker staring at him out of the corner of his helmet’s visor.
“I will join you shortly, my friend. Any food is good so long as it is warm. Or, in the case of sushi, fresh.”
Tallulah chuckled warmly. “Alright. I’ll give you a call when we decide on a place. I’m fairly certain Cayde will try to force us to eat spicy noodles for the eighth time this week, but I’ll try to make a case for suspicious sushi.”
With a curt nod, Saint left, The Speaker’s silent stare at his back. His long strides took him quickly from the meeting rooms of the Tower to the paths leading to the private quarters of Guardians, the Vanguard, and other high ranking officials of The Consensus. Geppetto squawked as Saint rounded a corner sharply, nearly mowing down an agile Hunter who dodged away at the last second. Saint shouted an apology, but kept up his pace. Looking ahead, he was relieved to find Osiris’s horned hood among the crowd, likely making his way to his own quarters. Saint-14 soon caught up with ease.
“Osiris, my friend!” Saint called with a smile beneath his helmet. “Why do you leave with such haste?”
“Research waits for no one, Saint,” Osiris replied evenly as the large Titan fell into step beside him.
“Ah, but it can wait for dinner. Come to dinner with us, Osiris! It has been an exhausting day, and I promise it will be more relaxing than research, though you enjoy that very much.”
Saint caught the end of Osiris’s eye roll as he exhaled deeply.
“I do not want to spend hours watching Tallulah and Andal drink each other under the table. I have better things to do with my time.”
Saint-14 laughed, the low timber of it carrying up the staircase they started to ascend almost side-by-side.
“Ah, the Hunters. They like the drink, don’t they! Those two are fairly well mannered. It’s only when Cayde joins us that they become unruly.”
“Exactly my fear,” Osiris said flatly as he started up another flight of stairs.
Saint chuckled, but started to strategize as they climbed higher. Eventually, Osiris veered off the main corridor and Saint knew that he was running out of time.
“How about another option then?”
“You mean besides the ideal of being left alone for the evening?” Osiris asked as he approached his door. He turned, his hand poised over the keypad to unlock it, and stared at Saint. His eyes were crinkled in such a way that Saint knew Osiris was smirking beneath his cowl. He broke into a grin himself before he noticed Sagira hovering at Osiris’s shoulder, her points rotating impatiently. Saint sombered, and he could feel coolant start to redirect to his faceplates before he replied.
“Come to dinner. With me.” Saint said softly. He tapped his fingertips on his chest plate lightly. “Just me.”
Osiris paused, his hand still over the keypad. He inspected the Titan warily. Saint’s arms were lowering slowly, as though cautious to startle him, like he was a creature wary of human contact. Saint was an expressive talker by nature, and Osiris was often entertained by his grandiose gestures when he spoke, be it a simple conversation or the retelling of a tale, either lived or imagined. Osiris could almost see the lilac illuminated grin through the helmet’s visor, Saint’s look of almost triumph. The thought of turning it into a frown swayed Osiris. Almost.
Osiris exhaled, the sound muffled by his cowl. He quickly tapped in his lock code into the door’s keypad before he could change his mind.
“Goodnight, Saint,” Osiris said before slipping inside. The door had barely closed before Sagira started on a tirade about “a certain needy and distracting Titan”, but Osiris tuned it out as he approached his messy desk. Once he sorted a few stacks of paper, Sagira fell silent.
“Done babbling, little Light?” Osiris asked.
“No, but I know you’re ignoring me,” Sagira grumbled as she floated towards her usual spot on the far edge of the desk, a nest of sorts made of scraps of paper and scraps of cloth from Osiris’s armor. Once she settled on it, she extended her points as though stretching after a yawn. “I know better than to waste my energy.”
Osiris chuckled as he pulled back the desk chair. “Good. Now let’s get started.”
Outside, Saint-14 frowned at the closed door. It took a few moments before he let his shoulders sag, wanting to ensure that Osiris was not about to re-emerge and catch him sulking. He sighed quietly before turning to Geppetto.
“We shall try again tomorrow, eh?” When Geppetto rotated her points in response, Saint smiled slightly. He would not be the Titan Vanguard or a hero of Six Fronts if he was not persistent.
“Come, little one. Let us see if Tallulah and the Hunters have decided on a place to eat.”
There would always be tomorrow.