God And Country Tea
Plundered from [ x ] @ronmanmob
Blue, pale from dehydration, tracks every single movement Ron makes. From leaning over, hands grasping the urn, to standing up right again. The urn set top the bar, like it no neverminded a single thing in its whole life. The mug taken up next and sat down, along with sugar cubes and--the slightest widening of eyes. He hasn't seen a jug of proper milk in ages. Not since the bad place anyway. And parts of him always coudl tell that whatever the facility had deemed milk maybe wasn't entirely that.
Still he doesn't move towards any of it until Ron's gone through his instructions. He's glad for them because everything had been automated in the facility. He'd learned how to manually do somethings since he'd escaped yes, but using things as luxurious as this 'urn' ? Definitely not one. So those movements are sharply watched as well. And only when Ron's said something about fetching Aunt May or at least something she'd made, and moved to go do said fetching (claude thankfully going with him), does Billy unwind.
Arms that unfold from his torso. Hands that reach for the mug. Repeat the actions Ron had mimed for him. The hot liquid filling up the cup at a fast yet weirdly easy pace. Milk added next, the sugar looked at but never really considered. His sweet tooth had never been overly large, not like Beth. His sister loved sweets, and maybe that's what has him plucking a few from the top when he's still alone. Stuffing them into his pocket for safe keeping, until he can give them too her. Forgetting altogether or maybe not really knowing completely yet that here that sort of survival instinct isn't needed. But as it was...
The cup is lifted. Brought to his nose. A sniff. Two. Smells like...the briefest of fragments skip across his minds eye. Arms wrapped around him, the sound of a voice singing. Warmth. Blond---the fragments scatter before ever making a real picture. Belly left in the cold void it leaves behind. And later he might realize it is what chased him to take a sip.
"Ffff--!"
A hand to his nearly scalded mouth. A tongue that has a few choice words for him if he'd let. Hot. Right. And there's a quick dunk of the very tip of his finger into steaming tea. Another lift and another sip and yes. That will do. Much better. And while he probably looks a bit silly cradling the cup in both hands--like a baby giant trying to use a toy cup as a tea cup-- he cares not at all. Another bit of warmth seeping deeper into him. Distrated enough that maybe when gracious host returns, Billy does not give up his realestate on the opposite side of the urn and bar.
Ere we are then---
Blue that's gained back a bit of its vibrance with the go wide without any thought to hiding. He's never seen so much food in one place. At least not outside magazines, old restaraunt menus, and eatery windows. His gaze jumping from one item to the next, his stomach growling out something hollow and warnings of turning green this very instant if he does not---
Only caution ya t'eat slow...
It doesn't deter a hand coming out. Grabbing a bit of bacon with his fingers. Taking a bite with no care at all if its too hot to eat or not. And a sausage is plucked from the lot next as he blindly sinks into one of the bar stools. He'll go slow but not slow. Completely forgetting that manners, and things like utensils exist, as he snags another bit of protein from the plate. Relishing in ever single drop of juice and crunch that come from them between his teeth. ANd only when that last bit has been chewed and swallowed--despite fingers going for yet another sausage...
"Th-thank you. I-its....thank you."
And in goes the other sausage. The tea gulped down a little more easy now with the temperature adjusted. and before long he's filling the mug up again. Only milk never sugar.
