[ He lets her fingers slip from his so she can take some of the bread for herself, and turns to retrieve a pitcher and glass from the sideboard. The juice he pours sparkles in the strange, glowing sunlight, filling up the glass with golden liquid that smells like the first crisp apple of a new harvest.
He comes to set both glass and a plate of soft, spreadable cheese in front of her, then takes his own seat again. His glance falls to the damp, rumpled mess of his handkerchief, and he chuckles. ]
Keep it.
[ She might need it, with how many tears she still has to weep.
His expression goes more serious in the next moment, head tilting slightly as he studies her. ]
no subject
He comes to set both glass and a plate of soft, spreadable cheese in front of her, then takes his own seat again. His glance falls to the damp, rumpled mess of his handkerchief, and he chuckles. ]
Keep it.
[ She might need it, with how many tears she still has to weep.
His expression goes more serious in the next moment, head tilting slightly as he studies her. ]
You know why I couldn't keep my promise.