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Emotional Attachments. This was a thing most human beings formed in one way or another. Be it attachments to a person, a pet, or even an item that may hold sentimental value to oneself.
Dottore would be a fool not to at least understand the concept, but he had believed himself to far gone from a human being at this point to care.
The Doctor had assumed that he gave up emotional attachments in the pursuit of knowledge many decades ago. Yet here he was, barging into the office of the one other man he deemed important.
Dottore was here a lot. Aside from working closely with Pantalone on fulfilling the goals of the Fatui, he also quite enjoyed bothering him. He began showing up at random, often interrupting meetings with "Very important people." As the Regrator often called them.
However when he walked into the office today, he wasn't there. Dottore looked around but it seemed that Pantalone had other things to do today. He sighed, sitting down in the bankers chair. Of course he could leave and wait for the man to return, but the lab was unusually cold today, so he had an excuse to not.
What was with this fascination? He was a human, no different from any test subjects
Dottore had worked on in the past
There was little information he could give that The Doctor hadn't already learned from a prior experiment, though for an ordinary human, he was quite intelligent. He was also pretty. Dottore didn't often pay attention to what people looked like. Appearances didn't usually matter in experimentation, but it had recently become very noticeable. He was interesting, and humans never interested Dottore anymore. He had thought that digging through their bodies had given him everything he needed to know apparently there was still much more. The idea that this man had grown on him was baffling, Dottore did not want emotional attachments and he certainly didn't want things growing on him.
He jumped slightly when the door opened, having been deep in his thoughts.
He looked up and Pantalone, still sitting in his chair.
"Ah, you're here. I've been waiting for you."
The Banker sheds his coat and hangs it up on the rack. "Have you? Perhaps if you had contacted me we could have arranged a time to meet instead of you breaking in."
Dottore scoffed, "Where's the fun in that?"
"You wouldn't have had to wait for me?" He smiled, not the smile he gave most people though. It felt special. "Now, why are you here?"
Dottore recognized that the banker had no bite behind his words. This had become a consistent enough thing that he gave up getting the doctor out of his office.
"Am I simply not allowed to bring my work partner my progress reports?"
Pantalones eyes lit up at the prospect of not being forced to hunt down Dottore for his work.
"Do you actually have them?"
"No, I don't. I just thought the idea would make you happy."
"Don't mock me, doctor."
"I'm not mocking you, your happiness is quite important to me." He put his hand where his heart should have been in foax offense.
Though he said it like a joke, it had become quite important to him. He bit back that idea, no! None of that.
All he received was a skeptical glance over the man's glasses.
"Besides, if I didn't visit you then how would you remember I'm here?"
"I can assure you Dottore, you owe the Northland Bank enough money that i would remember you." He said, reaching past him into a file cabinet.
"I'd go so far as to say that if you died tomorrow I would buy back your life so I can force you to finish all of the projects you took my money for."
From under his mask, Dottore felt his face grow warm.
"That's absurd, what kind of statement is that?" Shaking his head rapidly.
Pantalone laughed and shook his head, this suddenly became very awkward. Dottore felt himself grasping for ways to make this less weird.
"I just realized something."
"Hm?"
"In the time I have been here, you have not offered me any tea."
"Because you do not like tea.?" Pantalone said confusedly.
This was true, The Doctor was not a fan of tea. The issue was that he never told his partner that.
"And where did you get that idea?"
"Well," He said with a sigh, still carefully analyzing his paperwork. "Any time I make it for you it sits on my desk until you leave–which by the way, is going to ruin the wood– and I dump it out. If I offer you tea beforehand you turn me down. And all I ever see you drink is coffee." He finished, looking up at the doctor throught dark lashes.
Shit.
Dottore stumbled through a response, trying his very best not to admit he was right.
"I like some tea, just not yours. It's all- leafy and...bland."
"What tea do you like then? I'll make sure to order it in special for you." This was mockery, he was being mocked. He had to follow through with this claim then, sigh.
"Back when I was in the Akademiya the scholors would often try to sell you this herb, claiming it would help you focus when brewed into a tea. This wasn't actually true of course, I tested it and none of their properties were known to help focus. It did have a tolerable flavor though. I believe it was made by drying out the leaves of karmaphala trees–"
"Apologies for the correction doctor, but I believe you mean brightwood trees. Karmaphala leaves are used as a seasoning for soup. If you drank it as a tea it would taste simply awful." He shuddered at the idea.
Dottore blinked.
The absolute nerve this man had to have, correcting him on the teas of his homeland. How could he grow attached to some human man with this much audacity? He audibly huffed at the idea.
He was a very busy man, and yet here he was wasting his time arguing tea with a banker from Liyue. He didn't even like tea! What does this man do to his brain.
"I have work to do, Pantalone. I don't have time to sit and fight with you over what I drank in my youth." He said, standing up.
"Wha-?" Pantalone looked up at him, immeasurable confusion on his face.
"Goodbye, Regrator." He said as he went to exit. He felt eyes watch him, but he did not look back. Instead he just slammed the door behind him.
His frustration wasn't about the tea. The man had the ability to just—just guess that Dottore didn't like tea. Sure it was an educated guess, but he paid attention. He paid attention to such a small facet of his life. This was unnatural, especially to Dottore. No one paid attention to the things he liked, and his drink preferences was such a miniscule thing to recognize. It was overwhelming to say the least.
Flustered, a word that perfectly describe how he felt, floated aimlessly at the back of his mind. He didn't like the implications that came with that word. He insisted that he barely even liked the Regrator, he couldn't randomly decide that he liked the Regrator. Though he was attached to him, he cared about his safety more than his other coworkers, and he was generally friendly with him. Though friendly for the doctor was still quite iffy.
As he settled into his laboratory all of these thoughts crowded his mind. Why was he so fond of that man, and why did he allow him to fly around in his head like a pest?
——
The next day, Pantalone walked into his office. Looking around, he found a small metal tea leaf holder sitting on top of a note. He smiled, picking up the paper.
"I found this quite enjoyable, this is the kind you should order. --Il Dottore"