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A room which hosts a peculiar trio. On the lowest floor, at the end of the hall, due to noise complaints among other things. The wolves lay calmly at his feet, basking in the late afternoon sun that streams through the window. Pavia turns a page, the paper crinkles and his ungodly amount of chains and rings rattle.
The sound of approaching footsteps at the door already cause his eyes to roll. And since it's the end of the week, there's two sets of them, earlier than usual.
They're conversing in monotone, and it sounds like they're dreading opening the door as much as he is dreading the moment they enter the room. It was so nice and quiet today. Well, he doesn't enjoy silence all that much, but it's much appreciated when living with an unpredictable vampire lady and an even more unstable arcanist.
He was supposed to be their punishment, but eventually they all started annoying each other.
It makes Pavia almost miss his previous roommates, even if they all moved out the day they moved in because of his 'dogs'.
The door opens. Andrea starts growling like always, almost like a doorbell. Just a bit late this time.
"So, which one of you went through the fridge?" He takes on this condescending tone as he stares the pair down, and they exchange looks.
"No idea,"
they reply in sync, and one has the audacity to shrug too.
"Probably Medicine Pocket, they were here in the morning." You add, hanging up your coat.
"I would've heard him. That kid is as quiet as nails scratching on a blackboard in the auditorium."
When he retorts, he crosses his arms in emphasis.
Semmelweis treads the path to the windows behind the table, avoiding the wolves on the ground and drawing the blinds just a bit. In the shade of the room, she pulls down the hood of her cloak.
"We can get something in the cafeteria later." She offers, watching as you put on the kettle.
"Cafeteria my ass, one of you owes me plenty of sharpodonty."
"I brought other desserts, stop whining." You indirectly admit to your crimes, placing down a paper bag on the counter. You and Pavia assembled a whole kitchen in the room, despite the foundation's protest. And it proves useful again every day, because now you can have tea whenever you want.
And you don't have to hear his complaints about having to go out to buy ice cream every time he wants some.
"What'd you bring?" Semmelweis stares the paper bag down again, like she did when you were standing before the door.
Pavia even raises a curious eyebrow, because you rarely make up for the stuff you steal.
Which means you likely got whatever you have only because you had an eye out for it.
"Stuff," you vaguely dismiss their concerns, pulling out two teabags from the small box that's always open on the counter for your convenience. You don't even ask if they want it, because how could someone not want some warm tea now that the evenings are getting colder again?
..It is a bit cold, that might just be your condition, though.
Your roommates indulge in idle conversation and teasing that fades into background noise for you as you get a few plates from the cabinet. You get the matching amount of cups too.
The water is warm enough to brew, steam tickles your nose as you put the tea bags in.
"You made the earrings yourself?"
"I told you, I have perfect hands, both for killing and crafting."
You catch him flexing his fingers in the corner of your eye. Semmelweis seems more fixated on the rings than anything.
"That's highly impressive."
Pavia smirks, "I can show you if you want."
You open the paper bag, grateful the sachertorte inside wasn't smushed by your less than graceful way back home. A piece goes on each plate.
The vampire lady smiles as the mercenary keeps prattling on about the process of crafting jewelry from junk.
You pour the tea.
You serve them their cups first. And their plates too.
"Thank you," Semmelweis looks up, you earn a smile from her as well.
Pavia only stares ahead with distrust. "You sure this mischievous blood-sucker didn't put anything in there while you looked away?"
"I would never." She shakes her head, taking a sip from her tea with closed eyes.
Sure. Though, he definitely remembers the last time he had cake with Semmelweis.
"No one is tampering with my food." You pick up your fork, stabbing the pointed end of the cake off.
Pavia glowers at your other roommate as he hesitantly tries the desert.
The wolves at his feet shift, and three out of five eye the food. Pavia moves the plate out of reach for them.
Days like these are a rare occasion, but they mean the world to you.