He rolls his eyes and shakes his head but offers no further comment, focused on enjoying his meal. The omelette is delicious, as it turns out. He makes a mental note of the ingredients in this particular one - mayhap he can replicate it later - and listens to whatever nonsense Hythlodaeus may chatter at him as they eat, nodding or commenting appropriately.
Every now and then he glances up simply to look at the other man. The way Hythlodaeus tucks loose hair behind one ear, or picks up his fork, the half-smile on his face as he eats, or the more blissful expression he makes sipping at his tea. All these things he commits to memory, afraid of letting it slip through his fingers.
This...this is what he wanted when he set out to repair their star and the souls upon it.
As their meal winds down, he settles back with the remainder of his coffee, staring over the edge of the loft again. It all feels so fragile, he thinks, melancholic. Please let it last this time.
TYPOS GO AWAY
Every now and then he glances up simply to look at the other man. The way Hythlodaeus tucks loose hair behind one ear, or picks up his fork, the half-smile on his face as he eats, or the more blissful expression he makes sipping at his tea. All these things he commits to memory, afraid of letting it slip through his fingers.
This...this is what he wanted when he set out to repair their star and the souls upon it.
As their meal winds down, he settles back with the remainder of his coffee, staring over the edge of the loft again. It all feels so fragile, he thinks, melancholic. Please let it last this time.