[ she sets her clothes on the bed, glancing up once more at faraday. it's a little odd, she thinks, to see him leaving her bedroom, a surreal reminder that he'd spent the night in her bed, and it brings to mind the evening before.
she hesitates, opening her mouth to speak. part of her is trying to debate whether or not to mention yesterday, because they had agreed to discuss it, and that might even be a proper opportunity to suss out just a touch of what they're doing together, but... ]
Faraday—
[ but then she seems to reconsider it, shaking her head, and looks back to her clothing instead. ]
[ He glances up briefly, hears that touch of weight in her voice, and he steels himself. Feels, for a strange sort of second, like he's a child being scolded for his poor marks.
But she seems to let it go, and he relaxes, offers a relieved sort of smile and a lazy little salute as he turns. ]
As you like.
[ The clicks shut behind him, and he lets out a long breath, letting the tension drain from his frame.
Bullet dodged, he thinks to himself, and limps his way into his own room. ]
[ of course, faraday shouldn't feel too relieved for long, because this is something emma does want to discuss, but she also doesn't want to risk poking the sleeping bear of their argument. they have things to talk out, but with a tenuously established peace, she'd mostly like to keep it that way.
it's why she gets dressed, and just settles into the kitchen to see to their breakfast, instead of trying to find a way to bring things up immediately.
the smell of bacon fills her small home, and as she puts together the food, she finds herself...smiling. small, but soft and warm, genuine, even if it's at nothing in particular. it's comforting to have someone to cook for, comforting to have someone there, as opposed to the emptiness that had settled in after matthew's death. it's something she's appreciated about faraday staying with her while he mends, but she's also found that she's come to like that it's faraday — that it actually matters who is in her house with her.
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[ she sets her clothes on the bed, glancing up once more at faraday. it's a little odd, she thinks, to see him leaving her bedroom, a surreal reminder that he'd spent the night in her bed, and it brings to mind the evening before.
she hesitates, opening her mouth to speak. part of her is trying to debate whether or not to mention yesterday, because they had agreed to discuss it, and that might even be a proper opportunity to suss out just a touch of what they're doing together, but... ]
Faraday—
[ but then she seems to reconsider it, shaking her head, and looks back to her clothing instead. ]
Close the door behind you, if you don't mind.
no subject
But she seems to let it go, and he relaxes, offers a relieved sort of smile and a lazy little salute as he turns. ]
As you like.
[ The clicks shut behind him, and he lets out a long breath, letting the tension drain from his frame.
Bullet dodged, he thinks to himself, and limps his way into his own room. ]
no subject
it's why she gets dressed, and just settles into the kitchen to see to their breakfast, instead of trying to find a way to bring things up immediately.
the smell of bacon fills her small home, and as she puts together the food, she finds herself...smiling. small, but soft and warm, genuine, even if it's at nothing in particular. it's comforting to have someone to cook for, comforting to have someone there, as opposed to the emptiness that had settled in after matthew's death. it's something she's appreciated about faraday staying with her while he mends, but she's also found that she's come to like that it's faraday — that it actually matters who is in her house with her.
strange. but she likes it. ]