[Ah. She's caught him in a misstep, yet in the same breath has provided him enough grace to look away from the mistake. How easily he's forgotten the role he is meant to be playing, mocked up as an ordinary man of decent status, placed comfortably where he belongs in the luxury lounge surrounded by wealth. Sunday's gaze fixes on the waitress's pretty face. In disguise, his eyes are the color of blue steel like an overcast sky, deeply set and unremarkable. There is little to see in them. But beneath — the golden cast of his Halovian traits are there, peering out, unable to help how... captivating it is to speak to this woman. How comfortable, how easily at home her voice makes him feel.
Her voice.
We must continue to try to fly. He recognizes his own longing, then, where it lodges in his throat. It leaves him robbed of words for a moment, and he wonders whether he has imagined this — whether the House has done this, manifesting such an individual so close to his heart. Even her laugh is so like it, clear as the chime of a bell.]
Then you should quit.
[It isn't advice he would have given anyone else, but he is no longer the strict, driven person he used to be, or at least he is trying, and —]
I apologize. What did you say your name was, miss?
no subject
Her voice.
We must continue to try to fly. He recognizes his own longing, then, where it lodges in his throat. It leaves him robbed of words for a moment, and he wonders whether he has imagined this — whether the House has done this, manifesting such an individual so close to his heart. Even her laugh is so like it, clear as the chime of a bell.]
Then you should quit.
[It isn't advice he would have given anyone else, but he is no longer the strict, driven person he used to be, or at least he is trying, and —]
I apologize. What did you say your name was, miss?