[ The thought he could be charming has never crossed Trahearne's mind. People at home rarely had a favorable opinion of him, much less thought he had any sort of charm. It's the last thing he'd think of himself as.
In the split second after she grabs his hand, he looks down, allowing her to pull him into the cafe. And in that split second, he thinks. He thinks of all the people he's met so far, all of whom have been kind and understanding and exceedingly friendly to him. But all of them, he realizes, had sensed the walls and barriers he had put up around himself. They respected the arm's length he's kept them at, happy to step closer only when he allowed them to. And slowly but surely, he's found his friends this way--a slow, quiet strengthening of bonds.
But then comes Aerith, tearing down his walls and barriers and inviting herself in, making herself at home, cheering him on and showing up out of the blue with apples and expressing her pride for him and now, grabbing his hand and leading him into the cafe like it was her own idea to begin with.
And while she's not looking, he cracks a little smile. She reminds him of someone.
The cafe itself is not very big--there's a display counter with some pies and cakes and a lone shopkeeper stands behind the register. They greet them with a smile as Trahearne's gaze drifts up to the cluttered menu of drinks and food on the wall above them, trying to see if he fancies treating himself to something than his usual black coffee. ]
Aerith. [ He murmurs, eyes still on the menu, gently nudging her in the arm. Does she still have a hold on his hand? He hasn't checked. ] It's not your mother's, but they do have chicken noodle soup.
[ And he glances at her curiously. Maybe he'll get a cup of it. ]
no subject
In the split second after she grabs his hand, he looks down, allowing her to pull him into the cafe. And in that split second, he thinks. He thinks of all the people he's met so far, all of whom have been kind and understanding and exceedingly friendly to him. But all of them, he realizes, had sensed the walls and barriers he had put up around himself. They respected the arm's length he's kept them at, happy to step closer only when he allowed them to. And slowly but surely, he's found his friends this way--a slow, quiet strengthening of bonds.
But then comes Aerith, tearing down his walls and barriers and inviting herself in, making herself at home, cheering him on and showing up out of the blue with apples and expressing her pride for him and now, grabbing his hand and leading him into the cafe like it was her own idea to begin with.
And while she's not looking, he cracks a little smile. She reminds him of someone.
The cafe itself is not very big--there's a display counter with some pies and cakes and a lone shopkeeper stands behind the register. They greet them with a smile as Trahearne's gaze drifts up to the cluttered menu of drinks and food on the wall above them, trying to see if he fancies treating himself to something than his usual black coffee. ]
Aerith. [ He murmurs, eyes still on the menu, gently nudging her in the arm. Does she still have a hold on his hand? He hasn't checked. ] It's not your mother's, but they do have chicken noodle soup.
[ And he glances at her curiously. Maybe he'll get a cup of it. ]