[ There's a small tug to the corner of his mouth that can't decide if it wants to be a smile or a frown. He looks down at his hands, loose on his thighs, and for a moment whatever expression shifts across his face is hidden to her. ]
Yeah. Maybe.
[ He looks back up again, then shifts his chair out from the table and a little closer to her, reaching to carefully cup his hands around the ones she has twisting that scrap of cloth. His voice is gentle, even with the faintest edge of brotherly teasing that had once laced so much of what he told her. ]
no subject
Yeah. Maybe.
[ He looks back up again, then shifts his chair out from the table and a little closer to her, reaching to carefully cup his hands around the ones she has twisting that scrap of cloth. His voice is gentle, even with the faintest edge of brotherly teasing that had once laced so much of what he told her. ]
But don't rush, please. Live. Be happy.