Grillby is tired. He just wants to go home so he can collapse on the couch and forget this sour evening. Everything’s in order, he’d finished cleaning and as soon as he finished locking up he could call it a day. Sleep it off.
He gets the distinct impression that he’s being watched. Remembering the promise, or was it a threat, from earlier he slips his keys away and turns a weak glare to the Beast. He looks different but by now he’s just learned to stop questioning all the weird things happening in his life. Lately things have been a lot more odd than usual, best to just roll with the punches.
Grillby shifts his umbrella from one hand to the other. He’s tense and wary but still not afraid.
He gives a long drawn out sigh he just sounds tired, “What… do… you, want?”
Words. He suddenly forgot all. The syllables, sound and clicks of a tongue, way of moving his jaw and breathing - the whole knowledge gone in a matter of seconds at the view some would find simply not appealing or interesting. To him it was like a déjà vu with nostalgic finish. Even if visibly exhausted and angry at the demon, Grillby looked much more lively. And that made his life way interesting.
Slender fingers reached for the bouquet, revealing it’s bright, juicy colors as the Beast itself dared to kneel in front of the elemental. While offering flowers and after clearing throat to wipe the demonic language off of it he began, eyes focused on the other’s expressions.
“I’m deeply and utterly sorry for making your day harder and less pleasant.” Those kept their meaning as the demon locked his gaze on the bartender that had better things to so than to deal with a nasty behaviour of some random guy. Even though it is logical why Grillby doesn’t know him it still hurts. But that isn’t a reason to act the way he had acted at the bar.
“It’s hard to maintain the whole place by yourself and you’re doing a great job at keeping things running. I… have my moments of weakness. But that doesn’t mean I’m weak enough to not apologize. That’s why…” Here the gaze dropped, hand holding the bouquet reaching an inch farther - a gesture of a shy offer.
“You don’t touch water, that’s why I’ve picked them up instead of digging…” The Beast hesitated continuing, tone turning almost too honest, hiding a hint of sadness. Although there are no violets or tulips in the Underground that didn’t make his gift any special. Heck, it wasn’t even planned to be special. That’s why there are only three, single flowers. Each with different smell and shape. They did stood up from buttercups and echo flowers, all are equally beautiful.
“If you decide to throw them away - I’ll completely understand. If you wish to smack me with them - understandable, I would hit myself too.”
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