[ He watches her as she speaks, noting the sincerity in her tone, and just like that she reassures him that this is neither an imposition nor overstep. And—
”—I shan’t wilt—“
”—wilt—“
He pauses in his task, bringing one hand up to his jaw, moving it as if he means to prevent some other expression from showing. But there it is: a twitch at the corner of his lips, so quick, so faint, that if she’s not looking it will be as if it never happened. His brow furrows afterward; very likely, that almost-expression had been foreign enough to be perplexing.
(When is the last time he had been amused by… anything?) ]
Very well.
[ A laurel is not full crown, and with one last pink blossom added, he holds the completed piece up, shifting the way he sits towards her. ]
no subject
”—I shan’t wilt—“
”—wilt—“
He pauses in his task, bringing one hand up to his jaw, moving it as if he means to prevent some other expression from showing. But there it is: a twitch at the corner of his lips, so quick, so faint, that if she’s not looking it will be as if it never happened. His brow furrows afterward; very likely, that almost-expression had been foreign enough to be perplexing.
(When is the last time he had been amused by… anything?) ]
Very well.
[ A laurel is not full crown, and with one last pink blossom added, he holds the completed piece up, shifting the way he sits towards her. ]
May I…?