Fives smiles tentatively, unable to doubt Jedao at all when he says it with such offhand confidence. There's something undeniably warming to it, and it makes the idea of staying seem a little less awkward and intrusive... and neatly deals with the fact that he doesn't actually want to go. That the way Jedao says we with the exact same kind of comfort and confidence makes him ache a little in a way he's not interested in examining at the idea of leaving them here.
"I don't even know what he's got, but there's a stack over there that he bought yesterday, I think."
Jedao waves in the direction of, indeed, a low teetering pile of books, before offering Quentin a small chunk of fragrant meat from one of the skewers.
Fives looks carefully through the stack, offers a couple of suggestions to Jedao because he's still not really sure about fiction, and then brings over the one he picks. It doesn't take much rearranging for Fives to take over offering bits of food--on chopsticks, this time--to Quentin, so that Jedao can open the book and start to read in his warm, rich baritone. The quiet ease of it is enough to distract Fives from his discomfort and smooth away the lingering concern that he might be intruding as Quentin drifts peacefully in his drug haze to the sound of Jedao's voice.
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"What book would you like me to fetch, then?"
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Jedao waves in the direction of, indeed, a low teetering pile of books, before offering Quentin a small chunk of fragrant meat from one of the skewers.
"Pick anything that looks interesting, I guess?"
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