Uncharacteristically, Hayame lets it go without comment, simply watching as he fills her glass with the red liquid, sharp sense of smell picking up on the fermented fruit it was made of, along with the hints of other flavors with a skill that a human sommelier might be jealous of, if she knew it was considered classy to comment on such.
Instead, she watches him raise his glass, and almost repeats the motion before she instead... looks to the side. The empty spot she still expected to be filled by a presence grown familiar, a voice she'd gotten used to hearing, a smile she had become accustomed to.
no subject
Uncharacteristically, Hayame lets it go without comment, simply watching as he fills her glass with the red liquid, sharp sense of smell picking up on the fermented fruit it was made of, along with the hints of other flavors with a skill that a human sommelier might be jealous of, if she knew it was considered classy to comment on such.
Instead, she watches him raise his glass, and almost repeats the motion before she instead... looks to the side. The empty spot she still expected to be filled by a presence grown familiar, a voice she'd gotten used to hearing, a smile she had become accustomed to.
And there's nothing there.]
Is there not another glass... ?
[For him.]