[It's so far from a question. Fie doesn't need their relatively new bond to tell her that, though it does help. On her end, there is some level of concern, but there's also a strange sense of patience and stability somehow. No expectations, no need for the whole story, she's letting him do it at his own pace. It's easiest for the both of them.
Only since Class VII has she started to accept and even talk about her own feelings, and she's still discovering how to do that. Most of it feels liberating in a way. It's a whole new level of honest truth to get used to. At least that's never something she's shied away from. Mostly.
A cool wind blows through the garden, causing the leaves in the tree above them to softly rustle. All things aside, it's actually peaceful here. Fie can see herself falling asleep like this sometime.
Fie sits there crosslegged and thinks. Listens, too. He seems to have sought her out for a reason even he's not entirely sure of yet. On some level he might want to talk? Or maybe just have someone around. Either is fine with her. The issue in front of them-- him?-- is figuring out what he wants. Even in something as small as this: sitting or talking. Deciding what's preferable is a step in the right direction. Her own experiences are a good reminder.
She glances over at him, eyes free from judgment or anticipation.]
What do you want to do? [It's a pretty loaded question. Well, it could be. Really, she wants him to interpret it himself. Partly because she really has no idea where to take this and partly because it's up to him to show her.]
no subject
[It's so far from a question. Fie doesn't need their relatively new bond to tell her that, though it does help. On her end, there is some level of concern, but there's also a strange sense of patience and stability somehow. No expectations, no need for the whole story, she's letting him do it at his own pace. It's easiest for the both of them.
Only since Class VII has she started to accept and even talk about her own feelings, and she's still discovering how to do that. Most of it feels liberating in a way. It's a whole new level of honest truth to get used to. At least that's never something she's shied away from. Mostly.
A cool wind blows through the garden, causing the leaves in the tree above them to softly rustle. All things aside, it's actually peaceful here. Fie can see herself falling asleep like this sometime.
Fie sits there crosslegged and thinks. Listens, too. He seems to have sought her out for a reason even he's not entirely sure of yet. On some level he might want to talk? Or maybe just have someone around. Either is fine with her. The issue in front of them-- him?-- is figuring out what he wants. Even in something as small as this: sitting or talking. Deciding what's preferable is a step in the right direction. Her own experiences are a good reminder.
She glances over at him, eyes free from judgment or anticipation.]
What do you want to do? [It's a pretty loaded question. Well, it could be. Really, she wants him to interpret it himself. Partly because she really has no idea where to take this and partly because it's up to him to show her.]