† Blessed are he who speaks the Word.

[likeagoodson]

Characters: likeagoodson & dissentive
Setting/Location: In the kitchen!
Date & Time: Day 15, very very very early morning.
Warnings: sex and magic Blood and...Morrigan?
Summary: Charley never catches a break. Five days after this, his hunger strikes again. Or...yeah, that's it.

Comments

[dissentive]

Morrigan swept into the kitchen in the manner by which she approached most situations - semi calculative but mostly dismissive, eyes and ears alert, though she ignored the current inhabitant (mildly surprised that anyone else would be up at this hour that most people referred to as blasphemous) in favor of searching for sustenance. She found a loaf of bread that had previously been broken in half in a box, which would do for now, sparing the lone man a brief glance as she tore off a small piece of bread, sliding it past her lips and into her mouth to dutifully chew and swallow.

She paused.

"Are you crying?" she questioned, brow raising in curiosity.

[likeagoodson]

Despite his hearing being so perceptive, he hadn't noticed anyone else until she'd spoken. Too focused on not doing anything that could remotely present a danger to himself and the others around him. Charley, at first, did what he normally did in any other situation: he shook his head and thought to excuse himself. His own misery was not on display for others to see; perhaps Master alone, but he did not want to think about that any more than was necessary. So, he looked at the woman despite his blatant surprise.

"There wouldn't be a point in lying." At the very least, his words sounded calm. "I'm sorry if it bothers you."

As apologetic as he could be, and Charley tried to present himself with as much composure as he could muster. The kitchen had not been a good place to reminisce on anything emotional. His existence these last few weeks, however, and he appeared grim the longer he glanced at his current company.