Returning back to Cacopheny's small, stuffy, plain room was both a horrible, horrible disappointment and a very large relief. Sentio tossed himself onto the doubled-up beds with a groan, shutting his eyes against the world while Cacopheny silently shut and locked the door behind him.

So the dinner wasn't a total disaster. No one was chased away or chased out, no one hurt anybody, no one even yelled at anybody, though there were a few tense moments and a couple growls exchanged. Cacopheny managed not to ruin his clothes or the dragons' sensibilities at dinner-- though the fact that he hardly ate might have been part of that-- and he didn't offend anyone too badly-- though the fact that he didn't say much might have been part of that.

On the whole, though, it was not a very good night. The trip across town went uneventfully, though Cacopheny was obviously stressed the whole time. It got a little better once they were safely under the dome of the city again, though, after first taking the outer stairs and walkway from the bonding complex. For some reason-- probably that whole living-in-a-cave thing-- the half-demon was uncomfortable with open sky. He kept squinting, too, even though the sun was already setting, as if it was too bright for him. Which, Sentio had to keep reminding himself, it might well have been. The sheer number of people, dragons or otherwise, also seemed to weigh on the half-demon. Even so, it was hard for Sentio to be sympathetic, when half of him was busily excited that he was going to see his parents, and the other half was anxious over what they would think of Cacopheny.

The first mini-disaster had been at the door. Sentio had knocked, the butler had answered it-- one of only two servants in the house who were actually dragons-- and the poor old Air had nearly had a heart attack in panic at the scent-sense-whatever of Demon. The fact that, in his human body, Cacopheny towered over him didn't help, either. That brought his father Alder running, ready with a spell to blast the demonic intruder, and of course, Cacopheny was scared half out of his mind. It had taken Sentio a minute to calm everyone down and explain just who this "demon" was, that he wasn't really a demon at all and could hardly be faulted for his parentage, and that this was the bond he'd chosen that they'd all wanted to meet.

After that, everything had just been awkward, though Alder and Humain had both been impeccably polite. Conversation had been stilted, questions uncomfortable, and there had been an awful lot of tense silences. They had obviously not taken very well to Cacopheny, despite the half-demon being on amazingly good behavior. There had been a decided air of relief on all sides when it was time to leave again. Sentio and Cacopheny had walked back to the bonding complex in complete silence.

Sentio was, to say the least, disappointed. Dismayed, even. Not quite devastated, not yet, but he could probably talk himself into it, if he let himself. Even worse, he felt like he'd wasted one of his precious few chances to spend time with his parents.

"Yourrrr houssse. Isssss verrrrry pik," Cacopheny ventured from over by the door, where he hadn't moved from since closing it, dark eyes on his bond. His accent was stronger now than it had been at home, rolling his R's and hissing his S's far stronger than usual; he wasn't even pronouncing his B's anymore. Actually, he'd spoken very carefully whenever he had spoken in front of his parents.

"Yeah, it is," Sentio agreed tiredly. "One of the biggest in the city."

"Verrrry. Verrry." He paused, searching for a word. "Pretty."

"Even if they're never home, my parents like everything to look perfect," Sentio almost-grumbled.

There was another long silence, while Cacopheny's eyes finally fell off of him and hit the floor, instead, staring fixedly at the carpet. Sentio didn't look at him, instead staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had gone wrong. Wondering if the meeting had just been doomed from the start, because of what Cacopheny was and who his parents were. Wondering if they would ever like him, or ever understand why Sentio had made the choice he did.

"I. Ssssssorrry," Cacopheny said softly and haltingly, cadence slipping and accent thickening yet more. Like, Sentio realized vaguely, it usually did when he was distressed. "Trrrrry't. I tid, I tid."

It was the way he spoke that made Sentio finally realize just how horrible he was being. He sighed, rolling to his stomach and gathering his paws under him, looking over at Cacopheny with chagrin. The half-demon was the picture of dejected apology, leaning against the door, arms wrapped around himself, eyes shut and hair, coming partly unbound, half hiding his face. He had done his best, had even used the right fork and everything, even kept his end of their link silent and blocked, despite Alder's covert, suspicious looks and Humain's fluttering anxiety. They'd tried to hide their feelings, but Sentio knew them at least fairly well, and Cacopheny, who could hear thoughts, was probably not fooled at all. In fact, he might have even gotten quite an earful, been all but barraged by negativity, while fighting to keep himself and his shadows under control-- and all Sentio could do was sulk like a spoiled little boy because his parents hadn't acted happy to see him.

"I know," he answered earnestly, trying to sound reassuring, but failing as his voice shook. "You didn't do anything wrong, really. I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have made you come, shouldn't have been so worried about making-- making a good impression-- I should have-- should have-- talked to them first. Tried to explain, or-- or--"

His babbling cut off as his throat closed up with too much emotion. He tried to swallow, eyes burning, but the lump just got bigger when Cacopheny looked over at him, brows knit and expression puzzled. Then, to his horror, when he met the half-demons black eyes, he simply burst into frantic tears. It was just the culmination of a horrible few hours, a horrible few days, his disappointment, his fear, his guilt for feeling fear, everything. Just everything. He couldn't get out another word, choked up with very embarrassing, boyish sobs.

"Nonononono," Cacopheny was saying then, softly, reverting to demon-speech and fluttering about the him, trying to get to him without actually touching the beds. "Nono, it's all right, it's all right. Don't cry, nono, it's all right." The more distressed he grew, the less coherent he became, but Sentio couldn't answer him, anyway, and embarrassment only made the tears come harder.

Finally, Cacopheny just dropped down on the floor next to the bed and, somehow without touching anything, got Sentio off of it and into his lap, murmuring to him in his harsh voice, trying to put the unfamiliar tones of sympathy and affection into his unintelligible words, and stroking his fur with short, unpracticed gestures. It wasn't much, but it was all he could do, and it was all Sentio was going to get, so he gave up, buried his muzzle in the half-demon's chest, and sobbed wordlessly into his velvet robes.

By the time he'd cried himself out, down to hiccoughs and sniffles, Cacopheny seemed to have settled on just holding him close and rocking gently, still murmuring something lilting and strange and oddly reassuring, something that Sentio didn't bother trying to understand. Cacopheny had been comforted like this, the memory came slowly, by Chiya, the night of the third meeting. She'd soothed his shadows, the same way Cacopheny was doing his best to soothe Sentio's tears. He'd never done it before, but Sentio figured it couldn't be that hard. He didn't have any more to cry, anyway.

::M'sorry,:: he sent ashamedly, not trusting his voice yet. He still felt all clogged up in the muzzle and throat.

::Why?::

The utterly innocent, understanding question almost dissolved him again, but he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and held his breath, trying not to cry again. ::--Because. I don't know. Everything. Tonight, I guess. Dinner, and right now.::

::Dinner, not your fault,:: the half-demon's somewhat scattered but still coherent thought answered him. ::Dragons. Do not like demons, I know this. I knew this. I know you love them, I know they do not love me. Expected it, really, I did, yes, I did.:: The tone of the thought, though fragmented, was resigned, but not at all accusing, not towards anyone. He seemed to expect abuse as a matter of course-- and that was sadder than even Sentio's disappointment in his parents' reaction. ::Just now... why apologize? Only natural, all of this, all of that, after everything, and so young and innocent. Hard for you, I am hard on you, I know. Am trying to be better.::

It was easy to forget that Cacopheny was so much older than he was, the half-demon acted so child-like sometimes, and Sentio always tried to act so grown up... and had failed spectacularly, it seemed, right now, anyway. But after two so obvious reminders of his bond's superior age and, in some ways, maturity, in one day, he didn't think he'd forget too quickly again. Not for a while, anyway. He sniffed and rubbed at his muzzle with a forepaw, but didn't move out of Cacopheny's arms. At least Cacopheny didn't feel uncomfortable touching him, now, even though he'd avoided it, for the most part, until now....

::It's not your fault,:: he said again. ::I chose you. I-- I want to help, but-- but I don't know how--:: Another few tears trickled down his damp fur, and Cacopheny gently brushed them away, his hand much steadier now than it had been when Sentio had first started bawling so childishly, as if he was getting used to the motions of comforting.

::There is time to learn,:: was all Cacopheny said gently, more gently than he'd said anything before to him. Almost... almost fondly.

Sentio gave a shuddering sigh and tried to relax. He felt unbearably tired, now, after the restlessness of the day, the stress of dinner, and the emotional explosion. Cacopheny seemed to already know. ::To sleep, maybe,:: he suggested. ::Things will look better, after sleep, I think.::

"Maybe," Sentio agreed vaguely. His bond took his sleeve to his face carefully, drying it, then helped him off his legs-- they're probably asleep by now, after so long with all my weight resting on them, Sentio thought with absent chagrin-- and let him settle down in the blanket-nest that looked so very inviting. Who would have thought that blankets on the floor would look more comfortable than even a real bed.

"Sleep," Cacopheny suggested again, stroking his neck as he burrowed down into the fabric, and he was just glad to be allowed to take him up on the suggestion, and not have to think any more for the night. He didn't even notice when the lanky half-demon settling down beside him, already asleep.