noctium tdm; part 3-1

[sasin]

[ He's been seated alone in the back corner of the tea shop for nearly an hour now, sequestered and partially hidden by an old-fashioned folding screen. Colorful snacks, half-eaten, adorn the table before him, but his tea is cold.

Why is his tea cold?

Because he'd lost himself in the snacks.

Why had he not requested hot tea be added to his cold cup?

Because every time the wrinkled, genial old woman running the place nears him he's gripped by a strange desire to welcome her to sit down across from him. To talk with her. To comfort her. Then it becomes work–

And what is he going to do about that, anyway? Has he been reassigned? The Divine doesn't just lose one of their most experienced Grim Reapers to another dimension without a fight, but he wasn't informed of any change in prefecture. It's troubling enough that he's taken to pinching his chin as he purses his lips, dark eyes regularly dropping to the black hat in the chair beside him.

He'll need at least another four hours of complete solitude to work through this dilemma. Maybe not even then. ]

Comments

[sasin]

[ The disinterest is embraced with a nod and a lowered gaze, more than willing to abandon any and all attempts to dig up information on one another when a) he has nothing planted beneath the surface to be dug up and b) his curiosity has only spurred him on inasmuch as it must thanks to whatever is affecting them.

Perhaps it's fine if they sit together in silence until this wears off. Perhaps–

His hand jerks back instantly, walnuts flying as the bowl is upheaved and his fingers are tucked safely beneath his elbows when his arms cross. ]

Hey! [ YAA, my goodness ] What's the point of that supposed to be? Just because you're being drawn in by my circle of gravity [ enough with the gravity ] doesn't mean you get to start acting familiar. Put your hands flat on the table where I can see them; move your hands. Now.