[ He wants to retreat. Very much so. And he has no reason to think she won’t let him do it. After all…he was her Servant. They fought together, he served his purpose, and that was the end of it. No matter the connection that brought them together in the first place, that was the fate of every Master and Servant.
That’s what he thinks…which is why he doesn’t know what to say when she actually takes his hand.
Rin surely remembers the acerbic wit of her Servant. How his tone could cut a person to shreds. How he was never shy to disagree or offer his opinion if he thought she was making the wrong decision. Or the way he fought like an angry war god to ensure his charges made it out of the forest intact.
But here…he is silent. He doesn’t know how to react or respond to such a simple gesture.
He should pull his hand away…he should. Instead, Archer tries to quell his own internal turmoil and mask it as best he can. ]
…there was no one suitable that I met.
[ If he’s going to have a choice in the matter (and what a novel notion that is, considering), he isn’t going to do so lightly.
The feeling of her thumb tracing along his knuckles is…distracting, and he still isn’t sure what to make of it. He also doesn’t know how to say he doesn’t trust this place or its food or anything about it. That he feels severely…out of his element here.
no subject
That’s what he thinks…which is why he doesn’t know what to say when she actually takes his hand.
Rin surely remembers the acerbic wit of her Servant. How his tone could cut a person to shreds. How he was never shy to disagree or offer his opinion if he thought she was making the wrong decision. Or the way he fought like an angry war god to ensure his charges made it out of the forest intact.
But here…he is silent. He doesn’t know how to react or respond to such a simple gesture.
He should pull his hand away…he should. Instead, Archer tries to quell his own internal turmoil and mask it as best he can. ]
…there was no one suitable that I met.
[ If he’s going to have a choice in the matter (and what a novel notion that is, considering), he isn’t going to do so lightly.
The feeling of her thumb tracing along his knuckles is…distracting, and he still isn’t sure what to make of it. He also doesn’t know how to say he doesn’t trust this place or its food or anything about it. That he feels severely…out of his element here.
He doesn’t want to say any of that. So… ]
…I’ll eat something.