Snippets and Stories: (WtI) The Blind Baker

Few were privy to such a sensitive matter.

And that suited him just fine. The fewer the better, in his humble opinion.

In the kitchen he brewed, mixed, stirred, and spiced his dishes.

Earl grey chiffon draped with a generous dollop of the same cream. A sweet treat to offset the bitter tones that accompanied Oolong.

The bitterness bothered him little, if at all, but his company that evening had tastes that leaned towards the sweeter side of things.

Neiro had been gone a long Time, an excursion that required his presence.

If things were as scheduled and without mishap, he would be back today.

And just as it had when the albino stumbled in through the blustering storm that fateful day, it was a downpour today just the same.

It was by chance that Neiro had come upon him in the Tea shop, as he sought shelter from the thunderous storm and the veritable torrent of rain of its onslaught.

Silas had been careless. Few visited in the early hours and as such he'd grown lax and negligent in his vigilance. That and he'd been distracted.

When Neiro stepped through and walked up to the counter they had shaken hands and--he was all but certain the albino has seen the whites of his eyes when his glasses had slipped.

It was why he remained resolute, a strong voice even as the light faded from the fiery eyes of their mutual friend, reprimanding and forcing her to her feet, even if it meant she would need to lean on another.

To rise up and stand where she belonged.

To fight the good fight because even a blind man could see she still had fight left, even if she herself couldn't see it.

Not that she knew. And that suited him just fine.

One couldn't help but be caught up in her flow, drawn in to beat to the rhythm of her drum.

Though he himself had long since grown to accept what was to come and had snuffed the candle, he would not let her do the same.

Call it hypocrisy, but things were not quite so black and white, for sometimes the blind see better than any of true sight ever would, and could.

Both stemmed from within, her's born in the horror and demons in Life, his in the literal biology of life.

Arms around his waist startled him.

"It isn't often you miss the door. Worried me, y'know."

"Apologies, Neiro."

His flatmate smiled up at him. One he could little see, but feel in the small of his back, "What's on your mind?"

"The worthless sentiments of an aging man." he chuckled sardonically.

"Oh come off it!" Neiro snorted, laughing before pushing at him until he edged over.

The albino took his place beside Silas and dove right into the preparation.

"Rest Neiro, it was a long trip."

"Not long enough if you're that indifferent to my return." was the groaned reply.

So he let things be, exchanging conversation well into the afternoon as they busied themselves with the kitchen work.