It was strange really how often the two of them could tease and pester each other without any trouble and then suddenly one of them- usually Tony- would trip over on and fall flat on his face, emotional wise. It was too bad that he'd missed the joke, but he really had. He watched as Gladio left and sank onto the edge of the bed, putting his face in his hands wondering what the hell just happened.

He eventually pulled on some sweatpants and his bathrobe and went downstairs. He filled the kettle and put it on the stove before getting his own coffee. He wasn't going to tell, but today he was getting the regular stuff. He sat in the kitchen brooding, replaying what happened in his mind.

He missed Feanor. The man was older than dirt and had pretty well seen it all. He always had advice when Tony couldn't figure out what was going on in his personal life. Sarai was another he often went to for help, but he knew he wouldn't be seeing her again either. As his thoughts were interrupted by the whistle of the kettle, he sighed.

Do you want green or black tea? He sent as a text to Gladio. The man usually liked black, but sometimes he got in the mood for green. Maybe it was a weak or insecure moment, but Tony thought he'd ask instead of just assume this time. He put his head in his hands and sighed.