“Are you alright?” He cringed at how stupid the question sounded coming out.

“I’m fine!” WW growled, trying to shake the sheet to get it to spread. But he was doing so too roughly, and all it did was flap and twist itself until he let out a loud growl, spun on his heel, and plopped himself down onto the bed. “She just—She just doesn’t need to treat me like a baby all the time, you know? I-I just wasn’t fucking hungry! It’s not a big deal if I miss a meal here and there! I’m still taking care of myself!”

“Why do you think she was so insistent about it?” Pan frowned, risking sitting next to him.

WW went silent for a moment, staring at his hands. “It’s a long story…” He muttered.

“If you feel like sharing, I’ll listen…” Pan managed a soft smile. The anger had seemingly left the small man deflated. He couldn’t help but notice just how thin he was…

“I don’t, actually.” WW huffed, standing. “Get up, I’ve got to make the bed.”

Well. That was… Brief. Pan sighed as he stood. “I-I’m going to see if your mom wants help in the kitchen.” He stepped quietly out the door. WW didn’t say anything to him as he left.

“This is going to be… interesting…” Pan mumbled to himself as he slipped down the stairs. WW’s parents were in the kitchen, talking quietly as Pan reached the bottom step. His mom was angrily chopping carrots as she listened to whatever her husband was saying.

“I know, okay? Just… I’ve got a—”

“H-Hey, Pan.” Her husband interrupted her when he noticed the young man approaching. It just made him all the more curious what they’d been talking about. WW’s mom barely even turned to look at him before continuing to massacre the carrots. Every loud chop made Pan wince.

“Hello. Um… I was wondering if you needed any help cooking?” Pan wrung his hands together anxiously as he spoke.

“Yeah, if you want to, you can help me chop the ve—” She stopped talking when she finally turned her head to look at him. Her eyes widened some. “U-Um—”

“The veggies?” Pan couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face. As his host’s face went white, he began to laugh, softly. “Sure. How do you want me to cut them?” He made his way over to her side as she tried to stammer a response.

“I—Y-You—I-Isn’t that some sort of… weird… plant… cannibalism? Or something?” She still hadn’t moved from her spot mid-chop.

“Nah,” Pan shrugged, “I mean, I’m not going to be eating them. And I’m well aware of the difference between me and that carrot. For starters, I have feelings. But the carrot… Is just a carrot.”

The woman just nodded slowly. “A-Alright… Um… Then… C-Can you chop up some celery?”

Pan went stiff. “C-Celery?” His eye went wide, his lips contorting in something that could only be described as utter horror. “Celery?”

“Wh-What did I say?” She desperately looked to her husband, who’d gone to the sink, “F-Frank what did I say?”

“I-I can’t believe you would ask me to cut up celery! That’s—Carrots, okay, fine, but I’m like eighty percent celery!” He put a hand to his chest, his other fist clenched.

WW’s parents’ eyes were the size of dinner plates. Neither knew what to say. They stared at each other hopelessly, until a grin burst across Pan’s face. “Just kidding, I’m a floral tahval.” He shrugged a shoulder and reached for the two stalks of celery she had set aside. “You got a knife?” He looked over to them, smiling widely. Laughter exploded from him again when he saw the looks on their faces. They both looked mortified.

“Um… Yeah… J-Just chop them, I-I guess…” WW’s mom handed him the knife slowly.

“Okay!” Pan chirped and hummed softly to himself as he began cutting up the celery as he was told.

The kitchen fell into awkward silence, but this time it was Pan who didn’t feel the tension. Maybe she isn’t so scary… He thought, smiling as he helped her prepare the food to cook. “What’s your name, by the way? I never caught it.”

“Oh, I’m Katelyn. You can call me Kate, if you’d like.” Her voice was quiet. She kept glancing up to the stairs.

“What was that about, with you and WW?” Pan asked softly, glancing over to the woman.

She sighed, plopping some potatoes into a pot of water. “It’s… It’s a long story…”

“That’s what he said.” Pan let out a chuckle and shook his head.

“Did he say anything else?” She looked over to him, eyes wide and hopeful. Pan sighed, chewing his bottom lip.

“I… I don’t know what the situation is here… But over the years, I’ve learned that things go best when the people involved just sit down and talk about it. I-I mean, I can tell you. If you really want me to, I will. But I think it’d be better if you asked him.” Pan said seriously, looking her in the eyes. She frowned. Her eyes were pulled away to the potatoes she was cutting. “Every time I try to, it ends the way that it just did… Was what he said really that bad?”

“Do you want me to tell you?”

She was silent, a while. But finally, it seemed her curiosity got the best of her. “Yes.” She mumbled, pushing her long hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“He thinks you’re treating him like a baby. He says he wishes you wouldn’t, and that he is taking care of himself.” Pan held back a little sigh.

“Can… Could you tell him—”

“I’m sorry,” Pan interrupted her, “I’m a spy, not a messenger.” He handed her the cutting board with the vegetables he cut up. “If it’s alright, I’m going to go outside. I’m feeling a little sluggish.”

Katelyn blinked up at him with wide blue eyes. “Uh… Y-Yeah, thanks for… Helping…” She mumbled, watching the plant man walk out the door, shutting the screen softly behind himself.