[ to his left is a gentleman, dark hair tied back into a single tail and the fabric of his robe draped in eerily elegant folds as he sits on the ground, a porcelain teacup held between his index and third fingers and his thumb. a thoughtful expression colors his face, his eyes wandering much the same as sylus, drinking in the sights and sounds (and his tea) as the hours of the afternoon while away around them.
his lips curve in a faint smile when his amber eyes meet red ones, the hand holding onto his teacup lifting in a small salutation. ]
If the wine is not to your liking, perhaps a cup of tea might be instead?
indulgence.
his lips curve in a faint smile when his amber eyes meet red ones, the hand holding onto his teacup lifting in a small salutation. ]
If the wine is not to your liking, perhaps a cup of tea might be instead?
[ a hot cup of tea? in this weather?? ]