"What do ya need, Mr. Disciple, sir?" You sigh out, half out of concern for all the vigorous knee-bouncing and pen tapping on the desk and half out of sleepiness. Repositioning yourself from the perch of your elbows into a proper sit, you lean into his general direction, ready to leap and fetch whatever you can to help.
He's got to be tired, too, right? It's been at least a full thirty hours since he started re-writing some sort of code, five of which you slept through.
"Nothing right now. Just in a bit of a bind. You don't need to worry about it."
"Yeah, okay." You've replenished the bottle at least twenty times and brought some easy eats along the way in your waking hours. Made the mistake of trying to give him coffee, too...
Never again.
Dear lord, never again.
That was a near catastrophic mess that bordered on both the physical and mental plane of which you definitely pray never to repeat. You'll stick to having a whole pot yourself from now on.
Still, there has to be something you can do for him. You have to be useful. You can't just keep sitting around while Saeran is straining himself trying to perfect some stuff you can't even comprehend...
There's gotta be something you can do...
Oh! AHA!
"I'll be right back!"
"Alright." Mumbling into a finger that's tapping at his lips, the hacker only slightly turns to you, response distracted as his eyes still fly over the walls of text.
A quick creak and cry from mattress springs and you've bounded up to your feet, a pace so quick it could be considered a brisk walk had you longer limbs. Once more, you've got the kitchen in your sights and your mind on all the sugary treats in high cupboards that you are determined to stick in his mouth whether he says he wants them or not.
Laughable, the latter. He always accepts sugar in all of its glorious forms.
A smile creeps onto your features as you barely register the murmurs of scattered crowds and squeaking voices of the youth in your surround. Colors, light and swarms of flowing black tinge the edge of your vision as you turn corners, feet chilled by the floor's cool surface as your naked feet repeatedly smack against it.
The door is just as heavy as you remember it being and a smart cookie like you adjusts your weight to open it easily with your side without breaking stride. The hinges click a bit instead of giving out a dull screech and you inhale deeply, both impressed that someone took initiative to oil the things and in search for the warm, saccharine give-away of fresh-baked pastry goods.
No such luck, sadly enough. But it's okay. You know where all the candy is held and you plan to make good with that knowledge.
Few cooks and prep-hands are still milling about and instead of words, you opt for a smile and nod, an easy non-vocal option that you don't feel bad about in the least right now.
You're on a mission, nothing can stop you right now.
Except maybe the drastic height difference between you and the cabinet looming above your head.
Normally, you wouldn't have an issue with it. You'd climb the counter-top with a hop and slide yourself up using the grip of fingertips and the curl of core strength to bring you to a kneel atop the preparatory surface, pilfer the treasures and then slide away like a tricky little serpent-monkey.
Which, probably shouldn't happen right now. There are eyes. All of them watching.
Always watching, you are sure.
Patience. You need to wait for the perfect opportunity, should they leave or at least turn their backs, you'll hit the target of your desires and make off with sugary richness to bestow it on the man with the fire-tinged hair and apparent sleep deprivation.
Yes...
You almost start twiddling your fingers and cackling, but you stop yourself in a moment of clarity. You got some sleep, but you are still pretty tired. Exhaustion tends to put you in a weird mental state.
Stop it, weirdo.
Instead of turning away from you or making their way out, they lean, heads cocked into a hush conversation and you try not to tap your foot or bounce in place like an idiot in your impatience. You can't help but let your eyes wander, shooting some dubious side-glances their way as they continue to speak, paying you no mind at all.
Internally, you sigh.
"So, he's making his peace with everyone, then?"
"Yeah... I'm sad to see him go, but so glad for him... It's been so long since the last has ascended."
"It's amazing that he was able to fulfill his purpose so quickly! I hope I'll be that lucky..."
"Right?!"
"His family must be so proud."
"The boy was bouncing around talking about it all throughout group."
"That's cute. Hahaha"
"I'm sure all the paperwork has been settled between Magenta and him then?"
"Oh geez, yeah. It's been done and ready for years now."
"Wow. Then, he really is ready, huh?"
You only half-snoop, not trying to be too nosy, but you're curious and obviously you want to see if they have any intention of leaving. Their chuckles startle you a bit, but you take that as distraction enough and hoist yourself swiftly, allowing the practice from decades of shortness to bring your task to completion with the dexterity of a pro and pockets as full as a master-thief.
And you book it right the fuck on out of there.
Embarrassed? Yeah, maybe.
Anxious? When aren't you...?
Excited? Yup.
Confused? MmmHmm... Especially now.
You have sweets and you have questions. There is only one destination for them both and hopefully Saeran will give in to your request for him to take a break.