[ There is nothing you need apologize for, the warm tone of his voice seems to suggest, for in the breadth of a moment, the Director has righted himself again. As ever and as always, he is buoyant, allowing for nothing and no one (no darker skies, no despairing thoughts) to infringe upon the time he would spend in the company of a friend—of Saber, who is endearing in the way she would search for a pot with which to heat water while still holding fast to the teacup in her hand.
He wonders if he truly hasn't trespassed against her, for in his presence—more so in the here and now where she is dressed down in plainclothes, setting water to boil—she seems somehow uncertain of herself.
Touching his fingertips to the spot where she'd grasped his wrist, Sion's smile is a soft, discerning thing as he makes not to sit down, but to rather...! Fetch the loose-leaf tea blend which had accompanied the glassware set before returning to Saber's side. Sion, of course, is no stranger to brewing tea atop the stove, and thinks it to be a fine alternative to allowing for the leaves to steep in an otherwise (rather dull) slow manner. ]
Perhaps your path crosses with so very many others during your adventures as a Reclamation Agent that your ship is your own personal retreat? An oasis, away from the demands of warrant-work...! [ And here, his voice lilts in equal parts play and theatrics: ] And I have too-nefariously infiltrated it!
[ Wahahaha...!!
(With a watchful eye, he still minds the pot of water, waiting for the moment when it reaches a soft boil to add the tea leaves, fragrant with bergamont and orange peel.) ]
Though really--... [ Seeming to sober, after that, he casts Saber an artful side-ways glance, wondering what she must think of him. ] ...I should be thanking you, Saber.
no subject
[ There is nothing you need apologize for, the warm tone of his voice seems to suggest, for in the breadth of a moment, the Director has righted himself again. As ever and as always, he is buoyant, allowing for nothing and no one (no darker skies, no despairing thoughts) to infringe upon the time he would spend in the company of a friend—of Saber, who is endearing in the way she would search for a pot with which to heat water while still holding fast to the teacup in her hand.
He wonders if he truly hasn't trespassed against her, for in his presence—more so in the here and now where she is dressed down in plainclothes, setting water to boil—she seems somehow uncertain of herself.
Touching his fingertips to the spot where she'd grasped his wrist, Sion's smile is a soft, discerning thing as he makes not to sit down, but to rather...! Fetch the loose-leaf tea blend which had accompanied the glassware set before returning to Saber's side. Sion, of course, is no stranger to brewing tea atop the stove, and thinks it to be a fine alternative to allowing for the leaves to steep in an otherwise (rather dull) slow manner. ]
Perhaps your path crosses with so very many others during your adventures as a Reclamation Agent that your ship is your own personal retreat? An oasis, away from the demands of warrant-work...! [ And here, his voice lilts in equal parts play and theatrics: ] And I have too-nefariously infiltrated it!
[ Wahahaha...!!
(With a watchful eye, he still minds the pot of water, waiting for the moment when it reaches a soft boil to add the tea leaves, fragrant with bergamont and orange peel.) ]
Though really--... [ Seeming to sober, after that, he casts Saber an artful side-ways glance, wondering what she must think of him. ] ...I should be thanking you, Saber.
You've given me sanctuary here.
[ For the time being, at least. ]