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It’s usually me bed-ridden and enfeebled, usually me seeing my meals served at bedside atop gleaming silver trays... except I wasn’t that impeccable a cook than this prodigal Masterchef that I was now currently spoon feeding a lukewarm bowl of soup to instead of the five-star culinary delights I was usually accustomed to.

But hey, she’s slurping down every serving, and licking her lips after every gulp. It can’t actually be that bad, right?

Before long, I was finding myself scraping the bottom of the bowl barely even scooping up a spoonful for her to eagerly savor, and just like that, Ash had finished her meal with a breathy sigh of genuine satisfaction.

“Was it really that good?” I asked her, almost convinced that I’ve an innate talent for chicken soup now that I’ve only just discovered.

Ash pondered as she snuggled, bundling back under the comfy thick covers, still smacking her lips in relish, she answered, “Not really...” and outright just completely eviscerating my big dreams of ever shaking hands with Gordon Ramsay. “Tasteless, a vapid dullness spreading across the tongue. I sense you’ve neglected your seasonings, haven’t you?”

Damn, I remember the days when I had to teach her how the flaps of a cereal box worked, and now here’s that same gal today lecturing me about my herbs and spices... the learner now a master.

.....

“Should have complained on the first bite,” I told her, tossing the bowl back onto the tray next to an also empty cup of tea. “I’d have gotten you something else.”

“Complain... but whatever for, Master?” She asked, a confused stare slanted towards me. “I don’t recall having ever uttered my disliking.”

“But you just said – ”

“My beloved Master had painstakingly prepared a meal for my consumption, a taste of his affection, his love...” She loudly smacked her lips again. “So how, I ask you, could I ever find such a thing revolting?”

There’s that fluttery, flowery, funny feeling in my chest again... like my heart had been unknowingly replaced by a hummingbird high on a pound of ecstasy.

“Well, when you put it that way...” I muttered, briefly flashing back to all of the past meals I’ve ever cooked up for her. “I kinda wish my love didn’t taste so bland, then.”

“You’ll love me better, Master,” Ash assured, her left hand creeping over from the side and tucking itself snugly within mine. “You always do.”

Outside, I let my smile shine sincerely, but under the surface, I struggled to even breathe like I always do.

See, there was a string of words lodged down my throat, stuck, suffocating me, and no matter how strong the urge I felt to retch them out, I just can never seem to willingly, truly pry my lips loose.

But I did not seriously go through an entire volume’s worth of character-building just so I can chicken myself out now. That’ll just be fuckin’ pathetic.

So I breathed again, I tried again.

“Listen, Ash,” I began, and it didn’t sound like I even said it, it sounded more like I just thought it in my mind. But she looked at me, staring at me, those beautiful emerald glimmers affirming my words had indeed reached her. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

“Mm, do you now?” She replied, deaf to the sudden stillness my voice resounded with. “Surely not of the inhospitable state the house is in, I pray?” She smiled. “Fret not, Master. As soon as I am able, I shall go about rectifying that matter with extreme swiftness. For now, please, I ask you... only bear with it for just a little while longer, won’t you?”

“Music to my ears,” I briefly teased, my smirk quickly fading. “But no, it’s... I actually wanted to talk about you.”

To the far right of the bed, Sera’s eyes roused up and glistened gold, blinking quietly an intrigued gaze at me.

“Me, Master?” Ash slowly repeated, bleary eyes instantly sharpening to focus, seeing my solemn expression. “Why... I... have I... done something... wrong, perhaps?”

“No, no, of course not,” I immediately shut the notion down before it could fester. “It’s just... have you realized just how long we’ve been together? It’s been a pretty long time, don’t you think?”

Ash remained quiet, a firm gaze trying to unearth my reasons... meanwhile, I was there digging and scraping right alongside her.

“In any case, it’s a long enough span of time for me to be absolutely sure I want to spend the entire rest of my life with you,” I continued, mustering briefly a fond smile at her. “But I can profess and proclaim my undying love for you all I like, but I say that, you see... while never actually having the chance to really know you.”

An ongoing process was showing on her expression. A process of thought, a process of contemplation, a process of listening, understanding, all quietly happening at the same time in the shining luster of her stare.

“I want to know more about you, Ash,” I said. “I want to know about your life as an Elf-Knight, your time within the Old Guard. Before any of that too, I want to know about the old you. I want to know everything. How you’ve suffered, how you coped,” I narrowed my lips. “How you’ve lost...”

At that, perhaps it may just be an imagination running frantic, but I saw her brow flickering, her stare stiffening, then I blinked, and I saw what I saw no longer.

“So you wish... to know more about who I am...” Ash summarized, her tone going just as quiet. “Who I was before... before I met you...”

I nodded. “I do.”

“I see,” She blinked, her unwavering gaze instantly shifting to a process of wonder. “And this sudden urge to know, Master... where exactly does it stem from? Is it purely just a mere curiosity taking root? This urge... I suspect there has to be more to it.”

Sera was noticeable standing closer than she was a few minutes prior, the blinding radiance in her stare pondering the same question as Ash was.

If I answered her properly, then I’d be here all night explaining my thought process and decision-making that ultimately led me all the way here. Instead, I chose to answer her diffrent, instead, I answered her concisely... truthfully.

“I love you, Ash,” I simply told her. “And I just want to love all of you.”

“All of... me...” She slowly repeated.

Her expression seemed to tighten, seemed to dim, almost as if hearing my words as foreboding... or perhaps it was just another instance of an imagination going haywire, because the second I looked again, there was nothing present but the unwavering resolve of her stare, as she faintly breathed, as she softly uttered...

“Very well...” Her lips formed a smile. “But you should be forewarned, Master... my tale... my story... it is anything but brief.”

In response, I smiled back, feeling my tension dwindle. “We have all night. I don’t mind how long it takes for you to tell me everything.”

“Alas...” She breathed in deep, the air leaving her feebly. “I fear I am in no capable condition of properly divulging myself to you.”

Right, shit, that’s right. I’m asking for a bedtime tale for someone who can barely speak a sentence without running out of breath.

What was I thinking?

“So rather than telling you about my past, Master...” Ash heaved, the dim glow of her eyes drifting to the far left to a bundle of deep, dark violet that had significantly grown much closer. “Why don’t I show you instead?”