When the clay shattered on the door, Ren and Martyn’s initial reactions were clear: Panic.
Doc had just been talking about how important that vase was to him. Something about a courting gift from years long past, but-
Of course, of course, the moment he steps out of the room, Ren’s hand glitched out on him and his cybernetics made him drop it and-
Luckily enough for them, the pieces didn’t break too small. They put it back together the best they can, glue and paste mixing disgustingly on their hands.
Ren offers it to Doc with tear filled eyes, an apologetic whimper escaping his throat. Martyn stands behind him, his hands laced in front of him as his head remains dipped, his gaze sticking to the floor.
Doc is a bit annoyed. But, he doesn’t snap, or yell. He just sighs and carefully takes it from Ren’s hands, his fingers carefully tracing the mostly dried glue.
Maybe he should move on. They split ages ago, and they barely maintain contact in general. Yet, something about the vase makes him think about all those days. And the idea of not having a courting item just makes him feel so..
The other two men flinch back as Doc drops the vase again. He shrugs, looking calmly down at the shattered pieces.
“It’s fine.” He claims, waving a dismissive hand at them. “I think I needed a wake-up call anyways.”