[ Sion smiles where his brother does not, golden eyes warming at the sight of him—it is not often that they've the chance to indulge in idle, simple things such as familial companionship; they are two men defined by their work, each given to their own pursuits, their own cause. Ravus is a man changed by the loss of their parents, their inheritance, and Sion's heart... he'd given it away long ago, to the Westies he fought dearly to champion within Company walls. How very long has it been, since he'd dressed down in plain clothes, taking the day to patron a coffee shop by day (bar by night) with someone dear to him...?
When he sits, he studies Ravus' face, searching out signs of exhaustion. ]
I do not imagine it was for the coffee.
[ If it could even be called as much, watered down as it is (much like the drinks at night).
Still, Sion lofts an eyebrow high, and while his expression is playful, solemn notes color his voice: ]
no subject
When he sits, he studies Ravus' face, searching out signs of exhaustion. ]
I do not imagine it was for the coffee.
[ If it could even be called as much, watered down as it is (much like the drinks at night).
Still, Sion lofts an eyebrow high, and while his expression is playful, solemn notes color his voice: ]
Could it be that you are in need of my help?