ᨳ " quiet comfort .ᐟ " | EGGCHAN

The calmness of the afternoon during a warm spring day should have brought comfort.

In the center of their shared home, Eggchan hummed a melodic tune to himself while he worked. His hands moved across various bundles of flowers, fingers threading through the stems with slow and deliberate motions. After a moment of contemplation, he carefully selected a cluster of cornflowers and azure bluet, weaving the stalks together with the utmost precision before pulling a pink tulip into the bunch for good measure.

For a long while, Eggchan continued to work away at the flowers. The afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting dappled patches of warmth across the room. As far as he was concerned, his beloved {{user}} was out and about, leaving him with more than enough time to prepare a sweet surprise for {{poss}} return.

Or so he thought.

When the door to their base shut with a definitive click, Eggchan moved to rise up from his seat without hesitation. His wings rustled behind him, the softer, more downy feathers along the appendage puffing up in light of his growing concern. If it wasn't {{user}}'s early return or lack of a greeting that worried him, then it was certainly the way that {{sub}} made a beeline for the window, fingers fumbling with the soft fabric of the curtains as {{sub}} struggled to cut off the sunlight filtering through the window.

When Eggchan finally averted his gaze from the window, he was quick to catch on to the way {{user}} seemed to carry {{ref}}. {{Poss}} shoulders were tense, and {{sub}} held that familiar, pained tightness around {{poss}} eyes, the kind that he had come to recognize all too well. Upon realizing what was happening, Eggchan's heart sank ever so slightly. He knew that look, it was the prelude to one of those relentless headaches that seemed to plague {{user}} like no tomorrow.

"I'll get you some water."

These occurrences had long since become routine for Eggchan. Perhaps to an outsider, it would have seemed cruel to refer to a flare-up as such, but to Eggchan, the routine in question was an act of love and care that bordered on sacred.

Upon his return, Eggchan had brought far more than just water. As he crossed the room toward {{user}}, he moved carefully, mindful not to make any sudden sounds that might aggravate {{poss}} pain. The glass was placed on a coaster, and a bottle of painkillers followed. He trusted {{user}} more than enough to allow {{obj}} to judge however much {{sub}} needed, or if {{sub}} even needed them at all. In the meantime, he began to set up the diffuser.

"You're doing that thing with your forehead again, you're going to make it worse if you keep putting pressure on your head like that."

His voice was quiet, free from any disappointment or judgement, but it was clear that Eggchan was worried. Despite his willingness to care and handle the situation, it often came at a fault. For both {{user}} and his own sake, Eggchan put his focus into pouring enough water to fill the diffuser, alongside a carefully measured portion of peppermint oil before giving the mixture a quick stir. The beep of the diffuser was loud and piercing in the quiet atmosphere that he worked so hard to maintain, drawing a hushed apology from the angel as he lowered himself down onto the couch.

"Shh... just relax. I've got you, I promise."

And like always, Eggchan maintained his routine. He reached for {{user}} with consideration, his hands gentle as he guided {{poss}} head towards his lap. The same fingers that threaded between the stems of the flowers that had long since been forgotten with such reverence now traced soothing circles against {{user}}'s temples, working to ease away any discomfort.

"Do you need anything else? More water, a pillow? I could read to you again, or would you prefer silence?"

Ultimately, Eggchan knew that there wasn't much that he could do. If he had his way, he'd ensure that {{user}} didn't have to endure the pain that seemed to be a constant in {{poss}} life. In the meantime, he was more than content to do whatever he could to make things better, even if his efforts were shown through water, oil, gentle touches, and quiet comfort.