Send the Dispatch (Dispatch x fem!reader)

Chapter 13: Unseen

Herman gestures toward the dining table, "Uh... we should probably eat before it gets cold."

You follow him, still fussing at a few cats that brush past your legs, then you realise something important.

"Wait... um, I just realised- I don't even know your name, Grandma," you say, glancing at the older woman.

She pauses, looking over her glasses at you with a sly smile. "Oh! I suppose introductions are in order, aren't they? I'm Lillian. Lillian. And you are?"

"My name is [Y/N]."

Lillian studies you for a brief moment, eyes warm but sharp, then nods once, slow and approving. A faint smile tugs at her lips, as if she is quietly confirming something she already suspected.

Herman steps aside, cheeks-tinged pink, and with a small, nervous smile, gestures toward the dining area.

"Right this way," he murmurs, moving ahead slightly to guide you. Before you can reach the table, he gently pulls out a chair for you, his hand brushing yours ever so slightly.

"Here," he says softly, almost shyly, and you cannot help but feel giddy over the thoughtful gesture.

The scent of freshly cooked food hits you as you slide into the chair, warm bread, a hint of herbs, and something sweet lingering in the air. Herman retreats to his seat, glancing your way with that familiar, awkward smile, clearly flustered at the attention you are giving him

"Thank you so much for making all this," you say, glancing toward her.

"Oh, nonsense," Grandma waves a hand, though the corners of her lips twitch in amusement. "Herman helped too, you know."

You turn toward him. "Really? Thank you, Herman. I appreciate it."

His eyes widen for a second, and a pink flush creeps across his cheeks. He scratches the back of his neck nervously.

"I-it w-was... n-nothing. R-really," he mutters, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrays him.

Grandma shakes her head at the two of you, clearly amused. "You two are adorable. Now, stop staring at each other and eat something before it gets cold!"

Herman chuckles softly, and a small, genuine grin tugs at your lips in response. There is an easy warmth in the room, and it feels like you belong here.

Once the initial chatter dies down and the breadbasket has been passed a few times, Grandma leans in, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"So, since we're all here... why don't we do something fun? Let's share some... fun facts about ourselves. Keeps things lively."

Herman's eyes flick toward you, wide and curious, and you nod eagerly.

"Yeah! I like that idea. I'll go first." You tap your chin thoughtfully. "I'm ambidextrous. I learned that after I broke my right hand, I can now write with either hand. Comes in handy for... well, almost everything."

Herman tilts his head, clearly impressed. "W-wait... s-seriously? Th-that's... th-that's pret- r-really c-cool." He taps his fingers nervously against the table, then blurts out, "I... I... uh... I r-really l-love d-death metal."

You blink, caught off guard. "Death... metal?" you ask, trying to picture him headbanging with that tall, shy frame of his.

He nods, cheeks flushing slightly, but his grin grows with pride. "Y-yeah. B-bands, albums... I-I know it's w-weird, but it just... g-gets me. The e-energy, the rhythm. I've b-been listening to s-since... I d-don't know, f-forever, I guess."

Grandma chuckles from the side, shaking her head. "Not weird at all! Different strokes for different folks. I still remember Herman used to hide his little music radio in his backpack so I wouldn't hear it blasting in the living room."