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Sage waited patiently, happy to just relax and watch her acureya round the kitchen, breathing in the scents rising from the stove. At her comment, he hummed and nodded with a shrug. "True," he mused softly. "I can accurately say I'm a big fan of a good, homemade meal," he noted with a soft laugh, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position. He hadn't gotten dressed yet...neither of them had, actually...but that was fine. It was comfortable. Though, when she asked if he was ready, he gave her a crooked grin and a nod. "I'm always ready for food," he noted lightly, reaching for the bowl when she handed it to him, sniffing it happily before sipping at it, eyes nearly popping out of his head. It was good ...and he could definitely see why she liked it so much.
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Jora smiled to herself as she watched Sage settle into his comfortable position, the easygoing nature between them settling into the room like a warm blanket. She was content to let the quiet stretch out for a moment, enjoying the soothing rhythm of the kitchen. But of course, the moment was fleeting as he spoke. She chuckled softly at his words, the sound more of an acknowledgment than anything else. "A big fan of food, huh?" she teased lightly, though there was no bite to it. Her own smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You’re not the only one." When Sage grinned and took the bowl from her, she leaned against the counter, watching his reaction closely. The way his eyes widened with that first taste made her laugh again, a deeper, more genuine sound this time. "I thought you'd like it," she said, feeling a warm sense of pride in the simple meal. It wasn’t anything grand, but she knew how much effort went into it, and seeing him enjoy it so much made it all worth it.
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Sage tossed Jora a grin when she agreed that food was generally pretty good, nodding his head along. "It does tend to help things," he joked, though it was true. Without food, you were kinda screwed. Your body needed nutrition. He did pause from his eating to look over at her with a grin when she spoke up, saying she thought he'd like it. "It's delicious," he practically squeaked. "I don't know how you work this magic, but I've decided that I like it a lot," he noted with a laugh, shaking his head slightly. He really did appreciate her working....wanting to make food, and care for him. It made him feel valued, and while he was still getting used to it, it did make him feel good. He set the spoon to the side then, sort of just raising the bowl to his lips and drinking it that way. He got more in quicker...which generally seemed to be the way to go when you were hungry and something tasted this good.
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Jora watched Sage, a soft chuckle slipping out at the way he practically squeaked in delight. It was adorable how much he enjoyed the food, and the way he complimented her made her feel a little warmer inside. She hadn’t expected him to be quite so enthusiastic, but she wasn’t complaining. It was nice to see someone appreciate the effort she’d put into making it. "Glad you like it," she said, her voice a little more playful now. "It’s just the way I make it, nothing magical. Just... a lot of practice, I guess." She watched him down the soup with impressive speed, a faint smile tugging at her lips. There was something satisfying about seeing him enjoy something she made—especially when he acted like it was the best thing he’d ever had. It wasn’t just the food, though. She wasn’t used to someone looking at her like that, like she was *valuable*, like what she did mattered. It made her feel something warm and pleasant that she hadn’t quite figured out yet. But whatever it was, she liked it.
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Sage chuckled softly in response to her comment, shrugging after a moment. "Well, I think it's great," he mused, setting the now empty bowel to the side with a grin. "And you should eat too. It's your favorite to eat some," he added, teasing her a little bit but also completely serious. She hadn't had anything yet, and she'd made it all. He moved to grab his own bowl with a grin, waiting until she'd taken what she wanted before getting seconds for himself. Once he had that, he settled back down, sipping at this bowl a bit slower, so he could enjoy it a little bit more.
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Jora glanced at Sage, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she considered his teasing. Though he was right—she hadn’t eaten yet and had been focused on preparing everything—it didn’t escape her that he was also trying to coax her into indulging. She hesitated for a moment, then reached for the bowl, lifting a small spoonful to her lips. The familiar taste of the dish brought a fleeting sense of comfort, and she gave a brief nod, acknowledging both the effort he’d put into making it and the fact that it was, in fact, something she enjoyed. As Sage moved to grab his second helping, Jora allowed herself a quiet moment to enjoy the flavors, the warmth of the food offering a sense of grounding. She didn’t often let herself take breaks during moments like these, but Sage had a way of making things feel more balanced, less hurried. There was no rush. It was a rare luxury—just a simple meal, shared without expectations.
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Sage was more than happy to wander back to the couch with the second bowl full of soup. It was nice to just sit there and sip at it.. it tasted really good, and it was warm, and he just felt good. Jora was there with him, but they were just eating quietly. There wasn't a conversation that needed to happen and that was ok. The silence was perfectly comfortable. He finished the bowl a while later, and moved to set it down in the side table with a content sigh, tugging the blankets into him tighter and just sliding down to relax on the couch more. He was finding that was was more and more glad he'd chosen to take the chance and come here with Jora the longer he stayed here with her ....he'd miss the ship and his crew but this was nicer in a lot of ways.
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Jora sat quietly, watching Sage as he finished his soup, the flicker of the dim light casting soft shadows across his face. There was something peaceful about this moment—the way he sank into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter, a content sigh escaping him. It was... nice, having him here. She could tell he was settling in, not just physically, but emotionally too. There wasn’t any pressure, no need to fill the silence with words. She liked it that way—just being, together. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, noting the ease in his posture, the way he seemed to sink into the space, making it his. It was a good feeling. “Glad you’re here,” she said, softly, almost like an afterthought. The words hung in the air between them, simple but honest. She didn’t need to say more. He’d know. She was starting to realize, maybe more than she wanted to admit, that it was easy to forget how lonely things could feel before he’d come along. A part of her still expected him to get up and leave, like they all did, but the longer he stayed, the less that felt like it might happen. And maybe that was okay, too.
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Sage settled down after a moment or so, glancing over at her when she spoke up, a soft smile fluttering over his face as he took her words in. "Me too," he noted softly after a moment, face softening as he gazed at her. He really was glad they'd chosen to come here, and to do it together. If she hadn't decided to stay, or decided to help him in the first place, he definitely wouldn't be here right now. He never would've have experienced so many things that were supposed to be so simple. A homemade meal. Love. Someone caring for him when he was hurt or sick. A house. Things like that.
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Jora’s chest tightened, but in the most wonderful way. She could feel the weight of his words, the softness in his gaze, and it made something inside her stir—something she hadn’t realized had been aching for so long. She shifted slightly, the warmth of his presence grounding her in a way that nothing else ever could. It was strange, this feeling. She wasn’t used to it. She wasn’t used to having someone care in the way he did. He didn’t just show up when things were easy, but when everything was uncertain, when the world felt too big and too loud, he stayed. And that meant more than he probably realized. She gave him a small smile, her fingers brushing against his ever so gently, almost as if to reassure him, though she wasn’t sure what she was reassuring him about. “You’ve changed everything for me, you know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves were a secret. But it didn’t feel like a secret—it felt like truth. Something real, something they both needed.
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