*The scepticism shows on his face when he allows Kristoph to take the glass, but he does not comment further.
He steps away quietly, busying himself with clearing away the now-cold tea from the table, folding the blanket, and moving the cushions to the end of the sofa facing the armchair. He takes his time, moving unhurriedly, waiting until Kristoph wants to speak again.
And then he sits, propping himself against the cushions and sipping his own drink. He doesn't speak, the silence only broken by the sound of the wind outside and the fresh logs still crackling on the fire.
The flames are reflected in Kristoph's spectacles and in the depths of his own glass of Scotch, and he wonders again why the man is here as he sits back and picks up his newspaper again, looking at Kristoph over it.*
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-11 10:25 pm (UTC)He steps away quietly, busying himself with clearing away the now-cold tea from the table, folding the blanket, and moving the cushions to the end of the sofa facing the armchair. He takes his time, moving unhurriedly, waiting until Kristoph wants to speak again.
And then he sits, propping himself against the cushions and sipping his own drink. He doesn't speak, the silence only broken by the sound of the wind outside and the fresh logs still crackling on the fire.
The flames are reflected in Kristoph's spectacles and in the depths of his own glass of Scotch, and he wonders again why the man is here as he sits back and picks up his newspaper again, looking at Kristoph over it.*
What happened?