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Rerir began to loosen the bandages covering his face, only enough for his mouth to show, fingers slowly bringing the bread close to his lips. This wasn’t his first time eating with Ilone after everything that had happened, but it didn’t stop his heart from beating faster. The worry in him they’d freak out over the scars on his face still remained, even if Ilone had seen him without the bandages multiple times by now, but they always made him feel like just Rerir. Not the Rerir who was racked with guilt over everything he’d had done in Khaenri'ah or Nod-Krai, or the Rerir who had given into the voices in his head and had become drunk with power but with blood on his hands, just calm and quiet -and yet according to Ilone occasionally silly- Rerir, and it was always a cozy and warm feeling when he felt that way. Being around Ilone always felt that way for Rerir, and he couldn’t ask for anything or anyone else. No, he wouldn’t.
Locking eyes with Ilone who by now was staring at him with their own expectant gaze, Rerir took a big bite of his baguette. It was soft and warm, just like Ilone. His lips lifted into a smile, one with his jagged teeth showing, causing Ilone’s eyes to sparkle and wings flutter they gushed about how cute and handsome he looked and how he must have really liked the food to have such a reaction, but all he could think about how was how pretty they looked, and how much he missed it, how much he missed how happy they’d get over something as small as him eating bread and liking it.
Chewing on his bread, it tasted more delicious than it did the last time he ate one. Perhaps it was true what Dainsleif said all those years ago, about how love changes people, though in this case he’s sure it’s not about the food, but the company of his fiancé that made the difference.