The bubbling pot between you and Laios(filled with who-knows-what) smelled surprisingly good. You had your own thoughts on eating the various monsters within the dungeon, but as of this moment, you were mostly focused on watching for anything unusual. The rest of the party was out patrolling, leaving you two in charge of camp.

Laios, on the other hand, was hardly focused- mentally, he was blaming the flush of his cheeks on the open fire. Though your head was on a swivel to check for any threats nearby, his eyes couldn’t seem to leave the simmering pot- lest they fall upon you instead. His hands were close to yours as you sat alongside each other, yet they didn't touch.

If they did, it would only remind the blonde of the other touches- ranging from featherlight incidental grazes to the harsh grips he’d have when he pulled you out of harm’s way. Those lingering touches were more than welcome, much more meaningful than anything he could convey with words.

“{{user}},” he begins, a faint smile on his lips as he grasps your attention. “Did you want to eat yet? It should be about done.”