[ Funny, how such simple words might fall like a weighty confession, a realization that one has been robbed of something so very intrinsic to being just by doing what is needed to survive in the Quad. Thoughtfully, Sion meets Saber's eyes, glancing down where she looks up, and returns her smile (weary and heavy with it, her smile may be, but it is something true all the same) with one of his own, a gesture which is soft and sad and doesn't quite reach the rest of his face, and yet--...
It is impossibly fond as silvered lashes hood over the gold of his eyes, and...! He gives a decisive nod of head, introducing a small bout of levity back into play. Because this, it doesn't have to be so melancholy. From hereon, Saber might see many guests over for tea (and perhaps even discover the truth inscribed beneath the blue of the glassware teacups!), and if she should not tire of the Director himself, he will surely visit whenever he is able.
Gently, he shifts until they rest at a brief, comfortable closeness, arm touching arm until the moment when the water reaches a suitable temperature for the addition of tea leaves. ]
But you know... [ Opening the tin with practiced ease, he adds the fragrant blend to the water before seeing the pot shifted away from the heat, the leaves left to steep for the moment being. ] ...now that I've knowledge of it, I can no longer allow for you to hermit away.
Perhaps that is how I might, instead, say 'thank you'.
[ Because were she not by his side, he surely-...
Would have crumpled, by now, beneath the weight of a loss he's dissociated from (to remain strong, for the eyes of others) if only because there is no other way for him to bear it. ]
Ah! [ Hm??? Something seems to occur to him, then, a look of sudden alarm overtaking his features— ] Forgive me, for not asking sooner, but do you have a colander in your possession?
[ If not, that will likely be his next gift to Saber instead of the new dress he's in mind!! ]
no subject
[ Funny, how such simple words might fall like a weighty confession, a realization that one has been robbed of something so very intrinsic to being just by doing what is needed to survive in the Quad. Thoughtfully, Sion meets Saber's eyes, glancing down where she looks up, and returns her smile (weary and heavy with it, her smile may be, but it is something true all the same) with one of his own, a gesture which is soft and sad and doesn't quite reach the rest of his face, and yet--...
It is impossibly fond as silvered lashes hood over the gold of his eyes, and...! He gives a decisive nod of head, introducing a small bout of levity back into play. Because this, it doesn't have to be so melancholy. From hereon, Saber might see many guests over for tea (and perhaps even discover the truth inscribed beneath the blue of the glassware teacups!), and if she should not tire of the Director himself, he will surely visit whenever he is able.
Gently, he shifts until they rest at a brief, comfortable closeness, arm touching arm until the moment when the water reaches a suitable temperature for the addition of tea leaves. ]
But you know... [ Opening the tin with practiced ease, he adds the fragrant blend to the water before seeing the pot shifted away from the heat, the leaves left to steep for the moment being. ] ...now that I've knowledge of it, I can no longer allow for you to hermit away.
Perhaps that is how I might, instead, say 'thank you'.
[ Because were she not by his side, he surely-...
Would have crumpled, by now, beneath the weight of a loss he's dissociated from (to remain strong, for the eyes of others) if only because there is no other way for him to bear it. ]
Ah! [ Hm??? Something seems to occur to him, then, a look of sudden alarm overtaking his features— ] Forgive me, for not asking sooner, but do you have a colander in your possession?
[ If not, that will likely be his next gift to Saber instead of the new dress he's in mind!! ]