closed.
Who: Shiroe and Daedalus.
When: Monday morning.
Where: Ye olde Diner.
Summary: There are ... a lot of things they need to talk on. Especially after the cherry blossoms.
Warnings: Anger and general unhappiness.
It's not that Shiroe was... worried, per se. Or even particularly nervous. There may have been some new wariness to the situation, but it was subdued, secondary. His shoulders were tense, his neck hurt from having clenched his jaw for so long, and the waitress was giving him funny looks out of the corner of her eye - poor lad where's that older doctor - but he'd insist until he was hung for it that he wasn't nervous.
He wasn't sure what he was, really.
Horrified? Yes. Betrayed? Slightly, but he was old enough now to see that as a childish reflex (that didn't mean it didn't exist, though). Unhappy? ...
Elbows on the table, both hands drumming out a tuneless pattern on the table. He'd arrived early - he'd made sure to arrive early - and now, he was stuck waiting. That was a good thing. What would he do if he'd walked in and Daedalus had just been sitting there? Probably peeked into the window (dug into a certain mind), turn around and leave. It was a very high possibility. Then again, a more likelier possibility would be that he'd enter, hesitate at the threshold-- see the doctor- and then turn and leave. Both were admittedly probably not helpful things to do; he wanted to see the doctor- of course he did, these days he (always) usually did, was actually rather grateful for the routine the Mondays presented, but then he... didn't.
Obviously, he'd berate himself, shudder and probably hunch in a bit tighter over the table. There was definitely no putting that out of his mind. Maybe he was feeling some hope -- after all, Daedalus hadn't sounded too happy over being found out, either.
In any case, he'd moved on from rapping his fingers against the table to stacking the cream packets one on top of another. It made for a not-so-good distraction.
When: Monday morning.
Where: Ye olde Diner.
Summary: There are ... a lot of things they need to talk on. Especially after the cherry blossoms.
Warnings: Anger and general unhappiness.
It's not that Shiroe was... worried, per se. Or even particularly nervous. There may have been some new wariness to the situation, but it was subdued, secondary. His shoulders were tense, his neck hurt from having clenched his jaw for so long, and the waitress was giving him funny looks out of the corner of her eye - poor lad where's that older doctor - but he'd insist until he was hung for it that he wasn't nervous.
He wasn't sure what he was, really.
Horrified? Yes. Betrayed? Slightly, but he was old enough now to see that as a childish reflex (that didn't mean it didn't exist, though). Unhappy? ...
Elbows on the table, both hands drumming out a tuneless pattern on the table. He'd arrived early - he'd made sure to arrive early - and now, he was stuck waiting. That was a good thing. What would he do if he'd walked in and Daedalus had just been sitting there? Probably peeked into the window (dug into a certain mind), turn around and leave. It was a very high possibility. Then again, a more likelier possibility would be that he'd enter, hesitate at the threshold-- see the doctor- and then turn and leave. Both were admittedly probably not helpful things to do; he wanted to see the doctor- of course he did, these days he (always) usually did, was actually rather grateful for the routine the Mondays presented, but then he... didn't.
Obviously, he'd berate himself, shudder and probably hunch in a bit tighter over the table. There was definitely no putting that out of his mind. Maybe he was feeling some hope -- after all, Daedalus hadn't sounded too happy over being found out, either.
In any case, he'd moved on from rapping his fingers against the table to stacking the cream packets one on top of another. It made for a not-so-good distraction.