[ The wide smile causes Trahearne to smile in turn--it's infectious. And she has every right to ride the high of making him laugh. It's a rare, rare occasion indeed.
But at mention of his injury, he brings up a free hand to press it gingerly to his chest, on his armor (clothing? (leaves?)) that covers his scar. The slight wince on his face, if she catches it, should be answer enough. It hasn't completely healed yet, though he can move around and go about his day without it bothering him too much now.
He's about to answer her, verbally, when she brings up worry. It's something he and Ori ended up arguing over not long ago, and she was right--he always insists on worrying and fussing over others and refusing to let others care for him. And so to hear that same sentiment coming from another person entirely (unless they've been passing notes, he doesn't know), really makes him think about it.
Maybe that needs to change. But he just doesn't know how to change it. ]
...What makes you say that?
[ They come to the cafe, a narrow little establishment nestled between two bigger buildings. Trahearne slows to a stop beside the chalkboard sitting outside, advertising seasonal drinks and soups of the day. He isn't paying much attention to the shop, though. He peers curiously at Aerith, feeling suddenly unsure of himself; he isn't sure if he can take people worrying about him as he worries about others. ]
no subject
But at mention of his injury, he brings up a free hand to press it gingerly to his chest, on his armor (clothing? (leaves?)) that covers his scar. The slight wince on his face, if she catches it, should be answer enough. It hasn't completely healed yet, though he can move around and go about his day without it bothering him too much now.
He's about to answer her, verbally, when she brings up worry. It's something he and Ori ended up arguing over not long ago, and she was right--he always insists on worrying and fussing over others and refusing to let others care for him. And so to hear that same sentiment coming from another person entirely (unless they've been passing notes, he doesn't know), really makes him think about it.
Maybe that needs to change. But he just doesn't know how to change it. ]
...What makes you say that?
[ They come to the cafe, a narrow little establishment nestled between two bigger buildings. Trahearne slows to a stop beside the chalkboard sitting outside, advertising seasonal drinks and soups of the day. He isn't paying much attention to the shop, though. He peers curiously at Aerith, feeling suddenly unsure of himself; he isn't sure if he can take people worrying about him as he worries about others. ]