“Have you had anything to drink or eat today?”
He tries to stay healthy--- as per routine, breakfast is always the first meal of the day. Something with fiber, bread, or maybe fruit -- but when Slade has nothing to do, has nobody to retire, something in him feels off, abandoned. He’d get out of bed much, much later than he used to, and consequently would eat much later, as well. He hadn’t stopped working out, or eating enough, but he was very visibly thrown off his routine.
Slade hums in what could be read as slight embarrassment as he fixes himself some coffee. He doesn’t make eye contact until it’s done, peering at his son over the rim of the steaming mug when he sips it. Then, he raises it in a vague gesture, his tone casual. “ This. ” That’s it.