Late night extended stays had became more frequently in the recent weeks - Isidore, needing a place to sleep that wasnât the shopâs couch and the suffocating familiarity of his own home, had crashed yet again after coming by to hang out the night before. Heâd never considered himself a clingy person; but now with the curious absence of people in his circle, Isidore had been more reliant on his friends.
  Especially the ones with comfortable couches. It was the smell that first brought Isidore to his senses, and sent him waddling into the kitchen, a blanket still draped across his shoulders and down his back. With the plate set before him, Isidore leaned forward and sniffed. âOh. You did not... you didnât have to cook me breakfast. I apologize for crashing again, I-â Isidore smiled, suppressing a sigh. âI appreciate it. Thank you,â He added, biting into the sandwich tentatively. Usually, Isi didnât like eggs. Or bread, unless slathered with tuna... but it was impolite to decline. âYou are up early.â
Mason watched with amusement as Isidore tried to argue the necessity of cooking a guest food. If his mother heard that... Oh, that would be quite the scene. But he didnât argue back. He simply smiled and returned to his own meal, dousing it in sriracha in between bites himself. He didnât love eggs either, but they were really good for keeping and building muscle. He understood the same from anyone else although he struggled with understanding Isiâs diet. It didnât seem to consist of much more than fish and, while Port Vale was certainly known for the stuff, Mason... didnât love seafood. In fact, if there was another option, he almost always opted for it.Â
âYeah, weâve got a bunch of stuff getting delivered at the shop this morning. Youâre welcome to stay here as long as you want, though. No worries. Seems like you needed the rest, huh?â
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