( it's been awhile since Matt ended up at the Invincible.
usually he's pretty habitual. he heads off every two or three days for a meal he doesn't have to fuss at himself. it's not to see he eats that rarely, he does eat sparse meals at his place. mostly uncooked, easy assembly sort of stuff. still, it gets old after awhile, and there are at least a few gracious cooks that are willing to make enough food for all of them to live on most of the time.
the thing is, he'd had most of his meals with Grizz. so the fact that he's more or less had to accept the boy is gone makes it a little harder to face the place they'd spent most of their time together.
he's still a little reluctant, though it had to happen sooner or later. rip the bandaid off, right? he's here earlier than usual, trying for breakfast instead of dinner, as if that would make it easier. the oatmeal is sitting in front of him, mostly untouched. he hears the scuff of sneakers and for a moment, he's fool enough to wonder if he's wrong. but the heartbeat is different. it's a male, young, sneakered feet, but different all the same. he pushes his uneaten breakfast away, giving up on the venture for now. he notices the kid stalling, maybe looking for someone. something? )
There's food in the kitchen. If that's what you're after. ( should he not know that the kid is lingering near the doorway? maybe. but whatever. he's blind, not deaf, that's his story and he's sticking to it. )
sᴛᴇᴠᴇ. (a few days before the event.)
usually he's pretty habitual. he heads off every two or three days for a meal he doesn't have to fuss at himself. it's not to see he eats that rarely, he does eat sparse meals at his place. mostly uncooked, easy assembly sort of stuff. still, it gets old after awhile, and there are at least a few gracious cooks that are willing to make enough food for all of them to live on most of the time.
the thing is, he'd had most of his meals with Grizz. so the fact that he's more or less had to accept the boy is gone makes it a little harder to face the place they'd spent most of their time together.
he's still a little reluctant, though it had to happen sooner or later. rip the bandaid off, right? he's here earlier than usual, trying for breakfast instead of dinner, as if that would make it easier. the oatmeal is sitting in front of him, mostly untouched. he hears the scuff of sneakers and for a moment, he's fool enough to wonder if he's wrong. but the heartbeat is different. it's a male, young, sneakered feet, but different all the same. he pushes his uneaten breakfast away, giving up on the venture for now. he notices the kid stalling, maybe looking for someone. something? )
There's food in the kitchen. If that's what you're after. ( should he not know that the kid is lingering near the doorway? maybe. but whatever. he's blind, not deaf, that's his story and he's sticking to it. )