Midnight Manor Private Residence, Saturday Morning

[pocketpretzels]

The heating pad had helped a great deal to soothe the ache in his arm, though at some point during the night Watts still found himself awake and restless. He scribbled a quick note for Steven and headed downstairs to make himself a cup of tea.

Fandom being Fandom, he never made it back upstairs, and thus come Saturday morning there was a tiny Llewellyn Watts fast asleep on the library couch, one arm slung over an equally fast asleep Raphael, who was laid out next to him.

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"Exactly that!" Steven said, giving him a proud look. "Well done. That can be hard on the fingers."

[pocketpretzels]

Llewellyn brought his hand up close to his face so he could give his fingers a careful inspection. "They smell orange-y!" he reported.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven chuckled. "I wager they do. We can wash our hands before we go so we don't get orange all over things."

[pocketpretzels]

Llewellyn giggled at the thought. "That'd be funny."

The little piece of orange peel was getting tucked away in a pocket, though.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven frowned in confusion. "Why are you saving the peel in your pocket?"

[pocketpretzels]

"For later," Llewellyn explained.

[hasaknightjob]

Steven looked at Llewellyn with interest. "And what were you going to do with it later?"

[pocketpretzels]

"Eat it," Llewellyn told him. "If I'm hungry."

[hasaknightjob]

"What? Oh no, no," Steven said. He held out his hand for Llewellyn to give him the peel. "We don't eat those. They're not edible."

[pocketpretzels]

"They are so," Llewellyn frowned at him.

[hasaknightjob]

"Have you tried it?" Steven asked. "They taste horrible."

[pocketpretzels]

Llewellyn nodded. "They taste fine."

Not great, but yunno, not inedible.

[hasaknightjob]

"Well they're still not meant to be eaten," Steven said. He indicated his open hand. "Give it here please."

[pocketpretzels]

Llewellyn shook his head.

[hasaknightjob]

"Llewellyn, it's not for eating," Steven said. "It'll just make your pocket dirty."

[pocketpretzels]

"I can eat it if I want to," Llewellyn insisted. "It tastes fine," he repeated.

[hasaknightjob]

"You'll make yourself sick if you do," Steven told him. He thought about it. "Is it the waste that you're worried about? You don't want to throw it away?"

[pocketpretzels]

"I eat the outsides of apples and I don't get sick," Llewellyn argued. "And- and bananas!"

[hasaknightjob]

"Apple peels are meant to be eaten," Steven said. He frowned. "You eat banana peels?"

[pocketpretzels]

"So it don't get wasted!" Llewellyn explained, which also helpfully answered Steven's earlier question.

[hasaknightjob]

"Llewellyn," Steven said, patiently, "You are a little boy, not a trash compactor."

[pocketpretzels]

"What's a trashapactor?"

[hasaknightjob]

"Something whose job it is to make rubbish very very small so it doesn't take up much room," Steven said. He reached over to boop Llewellyn's nose if Llewellyn let him. "Which you do not resemble, I'm afraid."

[pocketpretzels]

The boop was indeed permitted. "I'm already very very small," he pointed out.

[hasaknightjob]

"You see?" Steven said. "Can't have you getting any smaller. I'd have a hard time seeing you. Then I'd be sad because I like when you are around to keep me company."