(no subject)
Who: Vash, Miles
What: Vash and Miles have tea.
When: evening, friday night
Where: Rm# 303
Rating: G
Miles felt a sigh escape him as his hands went through the motions of brewing his tea, a pleasantly sweet smell permeating the room. How often did I do this in my other life? he thought almost distractedly, hands nearly moving on their own accord. It was a question he considered often, and on several subjects. Was he the same person as he was? With no memories it was quite possible he was completely different, maybe even a person his 'true' self would loath.
Hmph.. such useless philosophizing leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Miles dismiessed the thoughts, though his mind dragged itself back to Wright's words. My father dead and some man.. supposedly related to Franziska. I.. don't wish to believe this but Wright wouldn't lie.. He turned and glanced at Vash's side of the room, frowning at the state of the other's bed. Fool.. I wonder how he's doing.. Miles made his way over after setting the finished pot aside, fixing Vash's bed with nearly inaudible muttering.
((Note - I wasn't sure whether this should be just after Vash got back or a few days after.. so do whatever you like ^^ Also, let me know if the bed thing isn't right. I don't remember Vash being a slob.. though Miles's idea of a messy bed is probably a drill sergant's idea of perfection >>'
Sorry this took so long ^^'))
What: Vash and Miles have tea.
When: evening, friday night
Where: Rm# 303
Rating: G
Miles felt a sigh escape him as his hands went through the motions of brewing his tea, a pleasantly sweet smell permeating the room. How often did I do this in my other life? he thought almost distractedly, hands nearly moving on their own accord. It was a question he considered often, and on several subjects. Was he the same person as he was? With no memories it was quite possible he was completely different, maybe even a person his 'true' self would loath.
Hmph.. such useless philosophizing leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Miles dismiessed the thoughts, though his mind dragged itself back to Wright's words. My father dead and some man.. supposedly related to Franziska. I.. don't wish to believe this but Wright wouldn't lie.. He turned and glanced at Vash's side of the room, frowning at the state of the other's bed. Fool.. I wonder how he's doing.. Miles made his way over after setting the finished pot aside, fixing Vash's bed with nearly inaudible muttering.
((Note - I wasn't sure whether this should be just after Vash got back or a few days after.. so do whatever you like ^^ Also, let me know if the bed thing isn't right. I don't remember Vash being a slob.. though Miles's idea of a messy bed is probably a drill sergant's idea of perfection >>'
Sorry this took so long ^^'))