It Means Everything [Liltotto, Dorian]

It was late hours as Liltotto was taking the familiar route to the restaurant, having only visited once or twice throughout her time away. Her focus was primarily on training, but taking care not to go too crazy with not eating or not taking breaks, having communicated her sudden string of absences and promising she'd be back helping out soon. And in a way, she kind of was intending on making good on that promise, her worn self coming around by the hind entrance. Had to have been clean up time, she guessed, especially with how empty the place looked, the last strands of customers finishing up and leaving for the night.

A knock would muffle through the door before she opened it, peeking into the kitchen from the darkness, immediately speaking up in a far more dragged tone than usual, "Hey, it's Lil. Sorry for coming by so late. Need a hand?"

Dorian had certainly been doing his best not to overexert himself, and unfortunately, part of that meant entrusting a good deal of the night's cleanup and preparation to the rest of the kitchen staff. He was certainly reluctant to simply sit in the back like some sort of lord over the kitchen, but there was little else he could do about it given his current condition. Still overstrained, and hardly half as injured as others. When Liltotto arrived, there was a certain melancholy on Dorian's features, though it naturally lifted at hearing her voice.

"No, I don't believe so. Everything is nearly finished for the night, I think. And they can close for the night, as well."

He could tell that probably wasn't what she was here for, though. Her tone said it was a little bit more serious than that, and besides, he would never so much as dare to open the kitchen once more after it had been closed. Not even as the chef, and not even for his own girlfriend. Dorian's tired smile only grew a touch wider as he moved to take her hand, gesturing toward the warm evening outside.

"I'd certainly love to have you over for dinner, though."

Tired eyes drew to the blonde man, feeling that rise of affection in her chest she had grown somewhat accustomed to, though her face didn't make such a feeling obvious. At the very least she could tell the feeling was mutual, and that made it a lot less embarrassing.

An eyebrow rose when she could feel some implication was thrown toward her motive for arriving here, narrowing her eyes and a light stroke of pink glowed on her face as she'd bunch her lips up slightly,

"I'm not here for food, dumbass," She'd speak low enough to only be heard by Dorian, but having to say such feelings out loud near other people just made her feel squeamish, "I'm here for you."

Her face was forced into a slight frown despite her obvious blushing, looking away from him as she'd hold his hand, "...Dinner at your place works. I didn't feel like going home tonight anyway."

"Ah, and how honored I am to hear that."

Dorian certainly found it incredibly endearing to hear Liltotto speak affectionately like that, and even moreso considering the specific tone she brought to it. He could certainly tell that she was in a certain mood, however, and he wasn't going to needle her all night. Instead, he simply gave her a little nod, leading the way right back out into the warm night air.

"Then I'll be sure to make a dinner grand enough you'll have to spend the whole night working at it, hm?"

It was just a joke on his end, of course, an effort to lighten the mood. He assumed she'd want to talk about whatever was bothering her, but he wasn't going to pressure her, either.

Her head was tilted down, eyes focused on her feet stepping upon the light pavement dulled by the departure of the sun's glow as the two walked, her hand holding loosely to his own, feeling his rough skin against her comparably softer fingers, her lips lightly parted with a desire to say something, but the words left unspoken, hardly managing to push out a chuckle to his attempt to give her some cheer. There was silence as the two walked for a while, nothing but them and the city's ambience as things begun to wind down for the night in most places.

"...I, haven't really been going home at all, actually," She'd admit, expanding honestly onto her rather aloof sounding comment spoken earlier, "I dunno what's up with me. I feel like shit more than usual, stuff just bothers me that didn't really before, at least, I think it didn't? I keep trying to keep my mind off it with work or training, but it doesn't really work."

A tired chuckle left her lips, "I dunno, this all must sound stupid. I should just get a grip."

Dorian's thoughts were primarily on Liltotto's words than on the world around them, and even the feeling of her hand in his was less noted than the thought of what she'd said. That all made sense to him, certainly. Aimlessness, irritation. After a tragedy like they'd faced, it only made sense that anyone who cared for the place would respond in such a way. Perhaps that wasn't the whole of it, based on the way she'd spoken, but he wasn't going to assume something like that.

"No, I think it sounds entirely sensible. After everything that's happened, it would be unfair to expect that you just move on as if nothing has happened."

Of course, he himself was doing exactly what Liltotto was. Avoiding the greater stresses of the matter through work, not thinking much about what bothered him. But he was younger than she was. There was less built up stress in the back of his mind.

Another gap of silence, her amber gaze pulled from her feet and barely to her other's shoulder region. Lifting her gaze any higher felt difficult, like a weight keeping her gaze low, unsure if it was just how worn she felt or some other thing thanks to her feelings, feeling a lump in her throat,"..Yeah, I guess so."

She fell silent again as she tried to articulate her thoughts into words - although she was trying to be more earnest with her emotions with the man, getting them out felt like digging an ever replenishing hole in the sand. He wasn't impatient, he wasn't interrogating her, there was no rush, she'd exhale her worries of what he thought about her inability.

"..Usually when stuff like this happens, my feelings like... Shut down, after a while?" She'd finally get out, "..Like, it's like, I feel messed up for a little bit, but after a while it just numbs away... But it isn't gone, exactly. Like it's there, it just doesn't sting as much, I go on with my life... And usually at this point is when that happens... And it hasn't, and I don't know what that means."

Her voice never wavered or cracked as she spoke, not a single tear shed, simply yearning to make some sense of how she felt, "..And I don't know what to do about it. It just feels like a mess I can't clean up. It's not like... I can't live with it or anything dumb like that, but I feel like I wanna do something about it."

Stopping as they walked, Dorian took a moment to look down into Liltotto's eyes, his expression more serious now. Did he understand her feelings? Maybe. Maybe not. It was impossible to ever know for certain, but what mattered far more than that was that he wanted to know. He wanted to understand.

"It certainly isn't wrong to feel those things. Perhaps I'm assuming too much, Liltotto, but I would think that to care this much is simply a sign of how deeply you care about this place, these people. I wish that I had an answer for you, a plan that might give you a way to solve this. But all that I can say is what you probably already know."

The warm summer air blew past, but Dorian scarcely even noticed it. His thoughts were on his own intentions, on the woman in front of him.

"This is home, hm? Seeing it in such a state will always quash any efforts to simply move past the pain of seeing it like this. It's certainly pained me to think of those faces that I'll never see again. All that can be done now is to remember them. To grow with them held in mind."

Maybe others in the Vandenreich didn't see it that way. He was certain that some of those more hardened sorts likely had already accepted the losses, that to them it was simply a tragedy that needed to be put behind them. But Dorian had grown up in a world where those around you were everything. To lose anyone was hardly something he could simply put behind him.

There wasn't any disappointment toward Dorian's answer, if anything she appreciated having some outside assurance that she wasn't just some sociopathic monster thing with barely functioning emotions and some incapability to react to a situation properly. It wasn't a concern she obsessed over, but it was a concern that existed in her mind somewhere at points. Most times she just found it easier to just barely acknowledge her own emotions and let them fade away, but that only made them come back stronger when she revisited whatever opened that wound.

She didn't know how to respond, completely at a loss of words, it was like her mouth forgot how to speak for a little, Liltotto taking a breath before ushering herself to give a response, looking back at him rather unblinkingly, her eyes full of thoughts,

"..Y-yeah." She'd stumble out after briefly nodding, "..I'm hungry let's go," she'd speak quickly and clumsily, her free hand squeezing harm as she hastily put together some excuse to divert from the conversation.

Ugh, that sounded so thoughtless and stupid, she'd softly cringe to herself, visibly upset by her response no matter how diluted her expression was.

Dorian certainly could have pressed the matter further, but in moments like these, he found that it was perhaps preferable to let things lie. Anything he said would only likely put her on the spot further, and she was quite transparently intending to move on from that line of conversation.

"Oh? And what would you like for dinner, then? I have lamb chops that I've been quite looking forward to, but if you'd prefer salmon, I have something I'd like to put together with that, as well."

Of course, it didn't really matter to Dorian either way. He certainly loved the craft, but it wasn't especially worthwhile if you weren't making it for others. He knew perfectly well that Liltotto could easily eat both, but it wasn't really about that. It was simply about giving her a bit of choice in things. He'd found that was always remarkably reassuring.