Then you must be celebrating, surely. Some wine from the kitchens?
[ But she is here and her chin is raised - no, grief isn't the correct word. She's too proud for grief, as she rightly should be and has earned. His head tilts in return, his hands carefully rubbing against each other, not nervously but thoughtfully. He's distracted and it's so utterly frustrating. Not that she's been a book he's ever been able to properly read, some language of which he only understands chunks and pieces. ]
[ His eyes shift from her to the numbers her fingers brushed across on his wall and back, something flickering in his gaze. If not grief, then - ]
Why does that place you here of all the possibilities therein, Ms. Adler?
no subject
[ But she is here and her chin is raised - no, grief isn't the correct word. She's too proud for grief, as she rightly should be and has earned. His head tilts in return, his hands carefully rubbing against each other, not nervously but thoughtfully. He's distracted and it's so utterly frustrating. Not that she's been a book he's ever been able to properly read, some language of which he only understands chunks and pieces. ]
[ His eyes shift from her to the numbers her fingers brushed across on his wall and back, something flickering in his gaze. If not grief, then - ]
Why does that place you here of all the possibilities therein, Ms. Adler?