05-28-2018, 01:31 AM
![[Image: jgC0ptA.png]](https://i.imgur.com/jgC0ptA.png)
Bastille shot Hazel a playful smirk, evidently not buying for a second that she had done anything terrible in her life. Oh, she could play coy all she wanted, but his expression alone was enough to clarify that he was calling bullshit. "I don't know," he drawled idly in response to Suite, grinning slightly, "I'd give us, like, a 5 out of 10, maybe." He wasn't going to fight Margy on it, however, because he knew it was futile. He couldn't think of a time when he'd actually ever received a gift (he hardly counted getting his mother's necklace from her corpse, thanks to one of her friends), and so the gesture left him briefly flustered, but he forced himself not to look awkward and instead just focus on opening it to make her happy.
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Margy seemed to know him well, but it still startled him a little bit to see the journals. He was an avid reader, true, but something stirred in him at the sight of the journals -- Grimm, no doubt, had passed down a special affinity for words and recording them. Good for stories, popped into his mind immediately, and that seemed to confirm it. That, and leave it to Margy to draw on their shared taste in wine. He smiled crookedly and glanced up at her, overcoming the faint flush he felt to offer, "Thanks, Margy." Trying to express anything more complicated would probably only bring out that awkwardness, and besides -- he was distracted by Hazel.
He realized probably a beat before he saw her face fell what the problem was going to be, and he was already looking at her when she turned towards him. He felt a flare of guilt, as if he should have been able to teach her better or faster by now, even if he knew that was probably impossible. Still, however, something about the dimming of her aura made him feel restless, and after a beat he was saying, voice deceptively light, "We can just switch to reading that one, instead." What were they in the middle of, The Odyssey? They could always come back to it. After a pause, he added, "Or I can just read it to you when you want to try the cooking again. Or something. I don't know." He wanted to promise that she'd be able to read it eventually, but bit his tongue -- he didn't want to promise that, didn't want to risk failing and letting her down on a promise.
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that Margy seemed to know him well, but it still startled him a little bit to see the journals. He was an avid reader, true, but something stirred in him at the sight of the journals -- Grimm, no doubt, had passed down a special affinity for words and recording them. Good for stories, popped into his mind immediately, and that seemed to confirm it. That, and leave it to Margy to draw on their shared taste in wine. He smiled crookedly and glanced up at her, overcoming the faint flush he felt to offer, "Thanks, Margy." Trying to express anything more complicated would probably only bring out that awkwardness, and besides -- he was distracted by Hazel.
He realized probably a beat before he saw her face fell what the problem was going to be, and he was already looking at her when she turned towards him. He felt a flare of guilt, as if he should have been able to teach her better or faster by now, even if he knew that was probably impossible. Still, however, something about the dimming of her aura made him feel restless, and after a beat he was saying, voice deceptively light, "We can just switch to reading that one, instead." What were they in the middle of, The Odyssey? They could always come back to it. After a pause, he added, "Or I can just read it to you when you want to try the cooking again. Or something. I don't know." He wanted to promise that she'd be able to read it eventually, but bit his tongue -- he didn't want to promise that, didn't want to risk failing and letting her down on a promise.
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the ascendants — astral seraph — tags
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Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]