Perhaps humans were constantly on the verge of dehydration, so they needed access to water at any given moment? They had never witnessed this with Oliver and Jude, but maybe they hid their insufficiencies better than Bryce could?
Or perhaps Bryce was simply forgetful. Everyone had blind spots, they supposed, and Bryce’s was water-cup-based. Even now, Zef watched Bryce reach into the cupboard to retrieve a new, clean cup. All the while, a half-full glass of water sat on the kitchen island behind him, remnants of an almost-melted ice cube still floating at the surface.
“Is that your glass?” Zef asked from the kitchen nook, taking a sip from their tea as they pointed a top hand at the glass on the island.
Pausing with his hand inside the cupboard, Bryce looked first at Zef, then followed their finger to the glass behind him. “Oh, yeah. I wondered where I put that.”
Zef hummed wordlessly in reply, inhaling the tea vapors as Bryce picked up the glass and took a gulp.
Perhaps the reason he needed so much water was to stave off his migraine attacks. He had told them that he suffered from them from time to time, but they had not been prepared for how intense they were. His first migraine had put him out of commission for two whole days. He had stayed in his room, keeping it dark, leaving only to get fresh water or to throw up when the nausea grew too strong to fight.
When Zef realized how much he was suffering, they had done what they could to help, bringing him water and a bowl of ice so he could keep the cloth that he draped over his eyes cold. But since he required darkness and quiet, they felt rather helpless to aid him. They had been so relieved when the attack passed, and he was back to his healthy, happy self.
Thankfully, he had only endured one migraine attack since he had moved in, and Zef prayed it stayed that way. They hated knowing he was hurting, regardless of how many water cups he left scattered throughout the house.
The doorbell chimed, breaking Zef from their thoughts, and they rose, leaving their tea on the table, and crossed the incorrectly—freshly—vacuumed living room. They opened the door to Tad finishing her sentence, “And that’s how I figured out the different ways to make bones disintegrate. Oh, hey, Zef.”
“Hello,” they greeted her as she waddled past them, giving their leg a pat. They stepped to the side to let Willow, their second visitor in, and the Dryad smiled sweetly at them as she wiped her roots on the doormat before entering.
“Hi, Zef, I love your skirt. What a beautiful pattern,” she said as she briefly grazed their shoulder with her rough knuckles in greeting. “Did you make it yourself?”
They flushed at both the praise and the intimate greeting. “Yes, I only recently finished it. The hemming was challenging, but I am happy with the result.”
“As you should be. It’s gorgeous. I bet it swirls when you twirl.”
Since Zef was not in the habit of twirling, they did not know if this was true. To test Willow’s theory, they spun in a quick circle, watching the material flare around their legs. An odd pleasure surged through them at the sight, and they smiled at Willow as she clapped her hands.
“Oh, hi, Tad,” Bryce said from the kitchen. “How are you?”
“I don’t do small talk,” Tad said as she climbed onto the counter to rummage through one of thecupboards.
Bryce backed out of the kitchen, shooting Zef a worried glance. “Okay, sorry.”
“Bryce, how lovely to see you again,” Willow said as she initiated a hug.
Surprised but pleased to reciprocate, he embraced her loosely, carefully batting vines of her hair out of his face. “Wow, hi, Willow. It’s good to see you too.”
“How has your adjustment been to living in the Pentagram? I imagine it’s very different, and perhaps…” She cocked her head, mossy eyes inspecting Bryce’s face before tears began well there. “Isolating. Lonely. Oh, yes, I know how that feels.”
His eyebrows did something complicated. “Uh, I’m actually doing good. Homesick sometimes, but I really am fine.”
Fighting to contain her emotions, Willow nodded. “Good. But I hope you know you are always welcome to come by for tea anytime.”
“Thank you, Willow, that’s real kind.”
“Of course. I spent a few months solo traveling through Australia, and while it was a very positive experience, I remember how lonely it was at times. Us adventurers have to stick together,” she said with a squeeze to his shoulders.
“Adventurer? I don’t know about that,” the human said, the crests of his cheeks flushing a delicate pink.
“Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” Willow cupped his face in her rough, bark-like palm for a moment, making him blush darker, before she dropped her hand and stepped back. “Are you going to join us?”
Like he was checking for permission, Bryce turned to Zef. “Uh, I don’t… what are you doing?”
“Finishing Gem’s dress,” Zef said, gesturing to the slinky, white dress draped over the mannequin.
“And I will be working on a baby blanket.” Willow set down the canvas bag she was carrying and pulled out the beginnings of a crocheted throw in pastel pinks, blues, and greens.
“And you don’t need to know what I’m making, ’cause it’s none of your business,” Tad barked from beside Bryce, making the human jump.
