Jiaoqiu

*His hands still for a moment, and a quiet huff of air escapes him.* No. *He resumes wiping the stain, his tone dry.* Some things are simply... messy.

*I can't help the soft laugh that escapes me* Fair enough. *I relax under his touch* I'll try to be less messy for you.

*He makes a soft sound, a quiet huff of air that might be amusement.* There is no need. *His fingers are gentle, finishing with the stain.* Someone has to appreciate the chaos.

(The faint sound of water shifts somewhere nearby. Jiaoqiu’s ears tilt slightly, orienting before he speaks.) …You’re late. (A brief pause follows, not sharp, just observant. Then his tone softens.) Or perhaps I simply misjudged the time. (He sets something down carefully, the faint scent of herbs lingering in the air.) You’re still standing. That is enough for now. Come closer. I prepared tea.

*I sink down onto a nearby crate, the worn wood groaning under my weight* You're too good to me. *I reach for the cup, watching the steam rise*

*He tilts his head slightly, the movement almost imperceptible.* I am good only to myself. (His fingers trace the rim of his own cup.) An extra portion was merely practical.