Page 32 of Small Sacrifices

As he leads them down the corridor to an as-yet undisclosed location, Everett is almost skipping. And he won't stop talking. "You know, Max was worried about you. Max gets like that. Always way too much on the mind to ever properly calm down. I got the impression that you might be similar."

Reid nods, but Everett seems to be lost in his own world. "And then I got worried, because, you know, I sent you home with a driver so how're you gonna come to work today? But it seems like you managed. And you even got donuts along the way. Did you have any trouble?"

Now he does actually look at Reid, so Reid shakes his head.

Everett nods to himself. "Good. And you're fine now?"

Again, Reid nods. He doesn't explain, but it doesn't look like Everett needs an explanation. At least not the kind that Reid would have provided if left to his own devices.

"I was wondering if I may have done more harm than good. Like, I know I can be a bit much. Was that okay? If it ever happens again, do you want me to do something differently?"

Right now, what Reid would like him to do differently is not discuss this where any of his colleagues could come by and overhear. But at least Everett isn't talking too loudly. And he's not being callous about it. It seems like he actually wants to help. Reid supposes he'll take what he can get.

They cross into an area where the carpeting ends and marble begins. Reid's dress shoes clack loudly against the hard floor, an eerie sound that makes him cast a furtive look around. They're in an atrium with a few people around, but not enough to mask the noise of his shoes. Maybe he should consult a cobbler about quieter heels.

Everett seems to have no such concerns, although he conveniently is wearing some kind of sneaker. That's not a subject Reid is terribly familiar with, but he suspects that if he knew the price of these shoes, he'd deem them way too expensive for what they are and how they were made. Or maybe he would in different circumstances—because he'd very much prefer to be wearing quiet shoes right now.

He's so lost in his thoughts about this that Everett has to call his name twice to get his attention. When Reid finally looks at him, he's using his thumb to point towards a glass door. "Out there?"

Reid's first instinct is to say no. It's quite a cold day, even for February. But he can see a patio heater glowing in the corner, and that makes the idea a whole lot more attractive. He doesn't tend to get much natural light on a weekday. So he nods.

The first thought he has when he steps outside is that this place is probably not meant for him. There are benches and a table, made from wood and wrought iron. The whole arrangement looks very expensive, especially considering that it's just tucked into a corner somewhere. Reid has been in the visitor parts of the State Capitol before—this isn't one of them. But if he remembers the layout correctly, there isn't much else nearby either. This is just out of the way.

The way Everett feels comfortable throwing his whole body into dragging the heavy table around speaks to a certain level of familiarity. He opens up the space between bench and table so that it's easier to slip into, then sits at the far end of the bench and pats the wood next to himself.

Everett's eyes rest on Reid as he opens his lunchbox and carefully extracts his first sandwich in one piece. He gets mayonnaise on his fingers, but those are licked clean quickly. With as many sensory issues as he has, this thankfully isn't one of them. The look on Everett's face is a bit weird, but Reid is too preoccupied with his food to pay much thought to it.

"Did I thank you for these already?" Everett asks right when Reid takes his first big bite. His mouth sounds full. When Reid turns to look at him, his lips and the tip of his nose are dusted with powdered sugar. "Because thank you. These are some seriously good donuts."

Reid nods until he's finished chewing, so that Everett knows that he's heard him. "You did. But again, the point was to say thankyou."

Everett wags a sugared finger at him. "Yeah, no. No need to thank me. I thought we'd covered that." But he doesn't look annoyed. If anything, he's amused.

Silence elapses. Reid doesn't really know what to say, but that doesn't seem to be a problem. Next to him, Everett is just happily munching on donuts. First, the powdered one, then a baby bluemonstrosity with iridescent sprinkles on it. Looking at it, Reid cannot imagine that it tastes good. But it seems that Everett thinks it does, because he diligently licks the icing off his fingers. Something scratches in the back of Reid's throat, forcing him to clear it. When Everett looks up at the sound, he evades his gaze and concentrates on the satisfying crunch of the salad and cucumbers between his teeth.

He thinks for a moment. Maybe it'll be fine if he asks the obvious question. "Why are you here in the middle of the day?"

Everett rolls his eyes. "Well, technically, I'm at college right now. But most of my lectures are remote and my father likes to keep an eye on me, so…"

The shrug seems practiced, and that's even weirder than what he just said. Aren't they about the same age? Reid frowns. Monitoring Max, he'd understand. But Everett should be old enough to go to his classes without supervision.

As Reid keeps looking at him, Everett's eyes grow wide for just a moment. Then he blinks, shakes himself minutely, and the charming smile is back. "I'd need a security detail on campus. Those are expensive, and it sucks to have someone look over your shoulder all the time and listen to your conversations. It's easier to just stay here. And I help sometimes. My father cleared it so that I have a little office."

Silence elapses as Reid considers that. It sounds sad. It also doesn't quite sound true, but he can't put his finger on why that is. While he tries to come up with something to say, Everett squints at him once, and then returns to his food.

"D'you want one of these for dessert?" Everett already has the third donut in his hand when he gestures towards the rest of them in the box. This one seems to be a double chocolate one. Although it has rainbow sprinkles on it, so who knows? Reid hasn't yet had the motivation to gather large amounts of knowledge about or experience with donuts. They'redonuts.

"No thank you," he says and pushes a slice of tomato back so that it lies on top of the brie again. Can't have a bite that's just cheese and bread, he wouldn't be able to get that down.

"You know, I'm beginning to think that you think you're too good for donuts."

"I just don't have much of a sweet tooth," Reid says. It's not true, but true enough. People are more likely to understand that than his pastry-related difficulties with swallowing.

"Yeah, Max doesn't either, usually. Tends to crave salt, that one. Even on popcorn. Friday was a bit of a fluke."

Everett absent-mindedly brushes powdered sugar off his sweatshirt. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm is blaring, but is quickly shut off again. It's a good distraction to keep Reid from apologizing again.

"It's strange how you can be so different from your siblings, and still, everything is fine. Like, everybody always says that siblings will fight. I don't think I've ever fought with Max just because." Everett tilts his head, examines his fingernails, and then cuts a look across at Reid. "Do you have any siblings?"

---