Zexion stepped back into the tavern. His clothing clung tightly to his skin, and he dripped on the hay covered floors.
Xaldin turned away from the kitchen hearth to hand the boy a warm towel. "Hey Zexion, once you're reasonably dry again, Xigbar said you can have dinner in your room and then get some sleep okay?"
He took the towel and rubbed it across his slate-blue hair a few times before wrapping it around his shoulders. The visible gray-blue eye widened-the other one probably did too, but who could tell-at the man's words. He shook his head. He had to help out, it was his way of paying room and board...
The dread-locked man sighs, "I figured. C'mon then, let's get your some soup okay? Then you can see if you feel up to working."
Zexion shrugged, there was no point trying to argue. Xaldin does as Xaldin does.
He sat at one of the small corner tables within the warm kitchen. The wall's time-piece showed it only to be noon, but the rain made it look so much later out.
Xaldin ladled a thick broth into a small covered bowl, setting the lid back on it and placed in on a metal grate above the fire to warm up. He went back to chopping meats, breads, and cheeses for the Barrel's patron's sandwiches.
The steady sound of the knife on the counter lulled Zexion into a half asleep state. He was surprised Xigbar would let him take this long of a break. Granted, it wasn't that often that Zexion thought of his old friend long enough to start crying. He would usually squelch any thought down deep enough to be forgotten until he tried to sleep.
The last time he had openly cried in front of the bar owner had been when he'd first arrived...
Word Count: 1442
