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"Goodnight Master Qifrey!" The four apprentices' voices echoed throughout the walls of the rural atelier, followed by the quick motions of steps against the hardwood floors, signaling their leave to their rooms.
"Don't stay up too late, alright girls?" Qifrey waved them off, watching them stumble slightly with the weight of the blankets nestled in their arms.
Even though the wooden floors were covered in carpets and with the fireplace burning, — much more often in the evenings nowadays— the harsh cold of the winter still managed to creep inside the atelier, and with the girls unused to such temperature, the four of them ended up being always cold. Even with the extra blankets Qifrey had given each one of them, — Of course raging from warmest to thinnest, according to the girls preferences — he was sure they'd still get cold somehow. Bless those snugstones that Olruggio had given them, otherwise they would have frozen to ice in their beds by now!
Snugstones… Olruggio…
His name came to Qifrey's mind naturally, as if it never left in the first place. And sure, perhaps it hadn't. Qifrey was sure he hadn't seen Olruggio in at least two days — Who would request such grandeur–tier commissions from anyone other than Olruggio of the Torch anyway? But to Qifrey, it was ridiculous. After all, he was a human being, who needed rest and proper nutrition! Something the noble placing such a commision didn't account for, considering the deadline of three days they had placed!!!
How could Qifrey not be enraged? Olruggio, his best friend, his watchful eye, his lover, was going to get sick because of some selfish noble—
"Hahh.." A sigh echoed inside the atelier, initially startling Qifrey. He whipped his head around by reflex, only to see an incredibly fatigued Olruggio standing near the lounging area, clutching on a wall just to stand upright. "It's finally finished…"
That was the last thing Olruggio remembered. No, that's not right— The last thing he remembered, or rather heard, truly, was Qifrey's distant voice. And the last thing he felt was Qifrey's arms gently embracing him, all while his knees gave out and his vision blackened.
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Olruggio woke up nestled deep in blankets. Wasn't he supposed to be lying on the floor? Chin deep in blankets that were too warm and not warm enough at the same time. He was sweating and shivering simultaneously, and the pounding headache coming from inside his skull did not help with his current condition. The quiet crackling of the fire was the first thing he heard, along with a distant soft tune, almost like a lullaby. His nose caught whiff of something cooking in the kitchen, though his appetite wasn't present at that moment.
He focused on that soft tune, almost lulling him back into sleep. It really lived up to its supposed genre, at least. Distinctly, he knew that voice very well.
His eyes came alive slowly, taking in the dim light of lamps first. In a poor attempt to sit up, he looked over to the kitchen — and there was the culprit to all of this. The delicious smells penetrating his nostrils, the soft lullaby–like hum, and probably the person who had him lie down and tucked him in while he was unconscious.
Qifrey.
He stared at the man for a moment as he moved around occasionally, and more often than not, stirring a pot. There was an underlying tone of worry to his sweet song, one that Olruggio didn't understand the reason behind.
"Qifrey?" He cringed at his own voice when it reaches his ears, dry and groggy. Qifrey, though, didn't seem to think of his voice as Olruggio did, because he turned around with an expression full of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Making quick use of erasing part of the circle on a pyreball spell with a flick of his finger and moving the previous pot away from the paper, he swiftly moved to the lounging area, sitting besides Olruggio and taking his face into his hands.
"Goodness Olly," Qifrey breathed a sigh of relief. "You had me worried sick… One moment you suddenly appear and before I can even take a proper look at you, you pass out. Just how hard did that client push you?" The worry still lingered in Qifrey's eyebrow crease, in the way his lips turned slightly downwards, in the anxiety–filled mannerism of the soft caressing against Olruggio's cheeks.
That seemed to be a rhetorical question in Olruggio's ears, as he didn't answer. "What are you cooking at this time, in the dead of night? Y'know, you'll get the girls to sleep–walk in here while dreaming that it's mealtime with all these smells." He teased, glad to now switch the subject to something undeniably routine but also small enough to ignore the whole passing–out incident.
That pried a small laugh out of Qifrey, who seemed to relax at the mention of one of his favorite hobbies. "Ginger and chicken soup, with a bit of the healing herbs that I left to dry out a few days ago. After you blacked out like that, and with your impending fever on the rise, I decided it would do you some good to get nutrients." He paused for a moment, listening to Olruggio hum in content.
He continued as he watched Olruggio pull himself up into a proper sitting position, still nestled around blankets, but also draping them atop of Qifrey's shoulders. "Olly." Qifrey started, expecting a response in order to continue.
And respond Olruggio did. Just a barely audible hum of recognition. That was all he could muster up with his current energy — even after a nap, he still wouldn't call himself well–rested at this state.
"How long has it been since you ate or slept properly? I do know of your horrifying sleep schedule and your tendency to go on for hours without eating when immersed in your work, but…" Qifrey paused, the furrow in between his brows returning, the familiar taste of his thumb's fingernail against his teeth as he grawned on it greeting his mouth. Another bad habit Qifrey tended to indulge in. "… I've never seen you passing out like that before. I felt afraid, Olruggio."
Olruggio brought his hand up to Qifrey's abused hand, taking it into his own to caress its back with his thumb. Olruggio leaned back, bringing the blankets downwards with him. "Around… Two–ish days, maybe? I really wanted this commission to end— I truly, truly hate noble customers that think we have all the time in the world as witches, and set us a barely-manageble deadline…" He sighed, his other hand — the one not holding Qifrey's — dragging down his face at an excruciatingly slow pace.
Right on cue, his stomach greedily grumbled. He was truly weak to Qifrey's cooking, especially after collapsing, and who was he to no to Qifrey's delicious soups in such cold weather? Not to mention how sick and physically weak he felt, and how his worries would lessen after a single sip of that soup.
Sensing the embarrassment and hunger radiating from Olruggio, Qifrey returned to the kitchen to fill a bowl for Olruggio, and perhaps a smaller portion for himself. Other than eating to keep Olruggio company, his other reason todo so was to prevent any lingering illness inside his system from taking place. Winter came with harsh illnesses, after all. Better to prepare beforehand than be sick and sorry
He retrieved two bowls from the upper cabinets, two of which Olruggio knew almost intimately, yet hadn't seen in a very long time. One adorned with deep blue colors, a star pattern around the edge, various little dots scattered around the middle area and a little drawing of himself as a child in the middle, with a dark hue enveloping the bowl from the outside, topped off with a golden rim. The other, similarly decorated, but with brances of silvery wood and leaves adorning the edge, and a child version of the man currently retrieving the bowls painted in the middle, with a color similar to turquoise around the outer layer, finished off with a silvery rim, contrasting his dear Olly's gold.
Needless to say, both of the bowls were decorated pretty wonkily. After all, they both hadn't had any experience at pottery painting at the age these were created. Back in the great Hall, when a pottery decorating event was hosted for a short while. Sure, they had received the bowls pre–made at the festival, and had the opportunity to use magic to assist them in decorating them, which was the main objective. But instead, each and every stroke on those two bowls were painted by hand.
These two bowls were one of the first things placed inside the atelier when they moved in. No one knew about these bowls other than them, Beldaruit, the event's witch host, and perhaps Olruggio's previous master.
Olruggio couldn't register anything the whole time Qifrey dusted them off and poured two portions of soup in to each one. He only realized he was staring the whole time Qifrey was serving them soup when two bowls were suddenly placed on wooden table in front of him, both placed in front of their respective creators, and Qifrey once again slipped underneath the blankets currently enveloping both men's backs and shoulders.
Olruggio felt his eyes almost sting at the sight of those bowls, memories flooding into his mind all at once. Sniffling back whatever tears he almost shed, —and if Qifrey saw that, he kept to himself, unable to tease his dearest friend at that moment, enarmored by the sight of Olruggio being emotional— he picked up his spoon as well as whatever courage he had left to look normal and took a spoonful of the soup presented to him.
He slowly ate, his taste buds delighted at the taste of Qifrey's food as they always were. He felt his heart impossibly warm, enough to think that either he was having a heatstroke from the sheer temperature of this damn soup, or he was having a heart attack. Turns out, neither were really the case.
Instead, the only rational explanation he could muster up was that the capacity of his heart couldn't take all of this in. The domestic setting, the warmth from the fire, the matching bowls from their childhood, the soup Qifrey made for him, Qifrey sitting beside him and eating said soup together with him, Qifrey being close to him.
He didn't even realize he was crying until he noticed his vision blurring, and Qifrey's spoon plop into his near–empty bowl as warm slender fingers came to cradle Olruggio's face. Qifrey's face was twisted into a slight frown again, one caring a worried tone that was evident on his face this time.
"Olruggio, are you—"
"'M fine…" Olruggio paused, sniffling to stop the tears and snot running down his face. "It's complicated alright? I'm not used to this yet, and I wanna be, but…" He paused as Qifrey's fingers wiped his cheeks free of his tears.
Olruggio really looked like his childhood self now, Qifrey thought. The days were he had to keep a suffocating promise to his unknowing best friend, one that gnawed at him day and night. One that he no longer had to keep, as it was already known to the black haired man. "…But?" He hesitantly asked, deathly afraid of the response.
"But, you can't bring these out," He gestured at the almost empty bowls sitting in front of them. "And expect to not react like this!" He sighed, watching Qifrey get up and return with a few paper towels, offering them to Olruggio. One if which he gladly took and used to blow his nose, wiping his tear–stained cheeks with a second clean one afterwards.
"It wasn't my intention to make you cry, dear Olly." Qifrey sat back down besides him, a saddened look painting his features. Once again sneaking under the blankets, he pulled Ollruggio into a warm hug, making the other man feel as if every truly was gonna be okay if Qifrey said it would be.
What could he say, he's head over heels for his lover.
Olruggio sighed, melting into the other man's embrace for a moment before pulling back to properly look at him, though barely enough so as to look at him, still close enough to feel Qifrey's body heat emiting from him, but far enough to see into his eye. "I know, I know, don't worry. Now, ease up a bit Qifrey! The bowls were something I hadn't seen in a while, and I got emotional, is all." He leaned back, cozying up to the warmth of the blankets and the heat emiting from the fire.
They kept chatting the evening away, Qifrey listening to Olruggio complain about client commissions, Olruggio listening to Qifrey speak about the raised market prices in Khaln, and discussing together the girls' future study materials, until both of them had no more energy to keep talking. Nestled within the warmth of blankets — which were now switched to cover their fronts instead of backs — and pillows, accompanied with the two bowls and enveloped by the atmosphere inside the atelier, the two men drifted to sleep together, bound to get a nasty matching neck pain the next morning.
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When morning did come, it came wjth a cloudy sky, as if snow was coming instead of sunshine. Which was also probable, considering the recent drop in temperature this season.
A few enthusiastic quick footsteps were heard thumping down the staircase, followed by a, "Master Qifrey, it's so cold!!" Spoken by Tetia, indentifiable by her distinctive voice, and a few good mornings from the other three girls.
Agott was the first to look around in confusion, prompting the others to also do so. "Where is Master Qifrey? He is usually fast awake at this hour…" She poundered, a hand now resting on her chin in deep thought.
"Maybe he also got sick of the cold. A warm bed in winter can trap even the best Masters!" Richeh spoke as she imagined her Master fast asleep in his bed, under a myriad of blankets, worh his — pointed — night cap, adorned with brushbuddy patterns on it's fabric, resting on his head. She was quite envious of the fact that she couldn't live in her fantasies. Oh to have a brushbuddy night cap!
"Personally, " Tetia thought, putting a hand on her chest and looking the most prideful she could. "I think he's going to surprise us. It'll snow soon, maybe he's made some hot cocoa for breakfast, and he's going to surprise us by hiding and suddenly popping out from behind a wall, shouting 'Surprice, it's Cocoa time!!!'!"
"Hot cocoa? Cocoa time?" Coco inquired, utterly confused.
"Not you Coco, the drink!!!" Tetia clarified, a smile on her face. It seemed contagious as Coco also smiled, mirroring Tetia's own wide one.
That smile soon turned into slight bewilderment as she spotted something on the couch, tugging on Agott's sleeve and pointing in the direction. "Agott, look." The other girls also turned to take a look at what Coco was pointing at.
Their Masters, seemingly melting onto eachother. Their heads bumped together at the top and the two hands nearest between them were intertwined while they slept peacefully. Seems Master Olruggio drolled in his sleep, and also faintly snored, and Master Qifrey also fell a victim to drool escaping his mouth as he slept.
The girls let out a joined gasp, although making sure it was quiet. Who knew their Masters were in love and sleeping together?!
Regardless of their initial reaction, they evacuated the lounging room in order to leave the two to sleep in peace. What were a few more minutes without breakfast? Master Qifrey would wake up delighted from sleeping besides Master Olly, and they would catch a glimpse of their Masters acting like they hadn't even thought about doing such a thing.
A win–win situation, truly.