Work Text:
The door creaks open, but you don't hear it, lost in a world of ink and parchment.
Your desk is a battlefield littered with scribbled diagrams and half-finished to-do lists. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt toast, a stark reminder of this morning's failed attempt at breakfast—or was it yesterday?
"You've done it again, haven't you?" The voice is familiar, gentle but firm against the silence that has been your only companion for hours—days, maybe.
You blink, looking up from your papers to the clock on the wall. It reads 9:13 p.m., the numbers stark against the dim light. A twist forms in your stomach, not from hunger, but from guilt. "Again?"
Lily steps forward, shrugging off her coat and placing a brown paper bag on the table next to you. "You got caught up in your work and forgot to eat. Again."
"I had tea—"
"Tea doesn't count." Her voice is gentle yet firm, like a hand guiding you away from the edge of a cliff. She tugs at the sleeve of your sweater until your eyes meet hers—a haven of understanding amidst the storm of your thoughts. "Did you have anything else?"
The question hangs in the air between you, as tangible and as pressing as the papers sprawled across your desk.
"I..." Words catch in your throat, tripping over each other in their haste to form an answer. A half-hearted shrug lifts your shoulders. "Maybe a biscuit around noon. Maybe one? I can't remember."
Lily's sigh is long-suffering yet tinged with fondness. "That was over eight hours ago, love."
You attempt a smile, the corner of your mouth twitching upwards despite the dull ache that radiates through your face. "Time isn't real," you mumble, hoping to lighten the mood.
"Maybe not," she concedes, her voice softening as her hand strokes your hair again. "But hunger is very real, and so are you." She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The gesture is so tender, so full of love that it anchors you to the present moment. "And I want to make sure you're taken care of."
She unloads the takeaway containers, their warmth a promise of the feast within. Your favourite curry, its rich aroma now filling the room.
"Here," she says softly, handing you utensils. "Eat."
You hadn't realised how hungry you were until the first bite hits your tongue, and the world tilts on its axis. It's been hours—no, days—since you've had a proper meal. You eat in silence, each mouthful grounding you back to reality. Lily watches, her arms folded over the edge of the table, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.
"You're always looking out for everyone else," she murmurs, breaking the silence that has settled between you. "Let me look after you, just this once."
You nod, unable to muster a response with your mouth full of rice. She reaches across the table, her fingers brushing away a stray lock of hair from your face. "Next time, I'll send a Howler that just yells 'EAT SOMETHING, YOU MUPPET' every hour on the hour."
A laugh bursts from your chest, nearly sending a piece of naan flying across the room. Lily's smile widens at the sound, and for a moment, everything feels lighter.
Time may be a fickle thing, but Lily? She’s the most grounding thing you’ve ever known.