[Jin casts Giorno, then the teacup, a dubious glance, but at last sits and takes the offered tea.
The cup radiating heat in his hands, the mingling aroma of flowers, books with dog-eared, torn pages-- there's a calming effect on him. He doesn't know Giorno especially well, nor is there any way for Giorno to know how many hours Jin breathed in this same paper scent in the rows and rows of the Shaolin's archives. He expects that this was pretty well intentional, anyway. Giorno is definitely that type.
Jin takes a quiet sip. He peers across the table at Giorno expectantly.]
god bless you anne
The cup radiating heat in his hands, the mingling aroma of flowers, books with dog-eared, torn pages-- there's a calming effect on him. He doesn't know Giorno especially well, nor is there any way for Giorno to know how many hours Jin breathed in this same paper scent in the rows and rows of the Shaolin's archives. He expects that this was pretty well intentional, anyway. Giorno is definitely that type.
Jin takes a quiet sip. He peers across the table at Giorno expectantly.]