*** HARMONIA has joined 710.35.155.17 <HARMONIA> Buongiorno, sorry I missed you. <HARMONIA> I'll happily get back to you as soon as I'm done with whatever business I'm on. <HARMONIA> Please leave a message.
[To be fair, he's Reira's pink freeloader. Well, he does work, but still — he's sort of a freeloader. They're all freeloaders in Reira's hobbit hole.]
[He's clearly uncomfortable with what she's saying, and he equally clearly understands it. She's right, he knows it, but . . . it seems wrong somehow, being the cause of her physical discomfort along with everything else. This really shouldn't happen again. That is, it shouldn't escalate to this point again. This is just more proof of that. They can't be losing sleep over each other.]
. . . You're right. I'm sorry, then. For making you that upset.
[He holds up a hand.]
I won't say anything else about it! But you can't stop me from apologizing.
[Tucking the bag of pastries under his arm and clutching the thermos to his chest, he scoots to the edge of the little bowl that the tree's branches make and holds out his hand to her.]
Come on. Let's go home. You can rest, and the next time we talk it can be about something more pleasant. [A beat.] So, literally anything else.
[She wishes she could banish his discomfort. She doesn't realize it could be easier if she let him do what he wanted in regards to her, but her pride dictates she can't lean on him so hard.
Being a good and reliable friend, to her, means standing on her own two feet more often than not. And really, being sorely tired from lack of sleep is nothing compared to what he's been through. She can weather it easily, if it's for him.
So he's correct to assume she's about to argue, her mouth opening and closing when he raises his hand, air escaping her nostrils in a huff.
Fine, fine. He really doesn't need to apologize, but he's determined to do it and at this point, she's tired of arguing.]
You're awfully stubborn.
[Pot, meet kettle, etc.
Still, she seems the least tense she's been so far as she climbs to meet him, considers his hand, and whether or not she should take it. But she gets the feeling...it's what he wants. And she's listened, and let him indulge her, so for once, doesn't he deserve the same?
She'll take his hand, then, and it's the first time she's felt the texture of another monster's skin under her palm. Decidedly not human, and her own hand is adorned in soft white fur on the back. Less human every day.
She can't help but snort at his comment either, adding:]
Yes, anything else would be more pleasant. But this was...good. You know? It was good to listen to you again.
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[He's clearly uncomfortable with what she's saying, and he equally clearly understands it. She's right, he knows it, but . . . it seems wrong somehow, being the cause of her physical discomfort along with everything else. This really shouldn't happen again. That is, it shouldn't escalate to this point again. This is just more proof of that. They can't be losing sleep over each other.]
. . . You're right. I'm sorry, then. For making you that upset.
[He holds up a hand.]
I won't say anything else about it! But you can't stop me from apologizing.
[Tucking the bag of pastries under his arm and clutching the thermos to his chest, he scoots to the edge of the little bowl that the tree's branches make and holds out his hand to her.]
Come on. Let's go home. You can rest, and the next time we talk it can be about something more pleasant. [A beat.] So, literally anything else.
reiras hobbit hole...
Being a good and reliable friend, to her, means standing on her own two feet more often than not. And really, being sorely tired from lack of sleep is nothing compared to what he's been through. She can weather it easily, if it's for him.
So he's correct to assume she's about to argue, her mouth opening and closing when he raises his hand, air escaping her nostrils in a huff.
Fine, fine. He really doesn't need to apologize, but he's determined to do it and at this point, she's tired of arguing.]
You're awfully stubborn.
[Pot, meet kettle, etc.
Still, she seems the least tense she's been so far as she climbs to meet him, considers his hand, and whether or not she should take it. But she gets the feeling...it's what he wants. And she's listened, and let him indulge her, so for once, doesn't he deserve the same?
She'll take his hand, then, and it's the first time she's felt the texture of another monster's skin under her palm. Decidedly not human, and her own hand is adorned in soft white fur on the back. Less human every day.
She can't help but snort at his comment either, adding:]
Yes, anything else would be more pleasant. But this was...good. You know? It was good to listen to you again.