Room 409, Saturday Afternoon

[inneedofcoffee]

After very kindly depositing Faramir on the floor, Maladicta went back to her coffee pot. That poor machine might have been running non-stop since this week started.

Once she had a cup poured for herself, she took a seat on the bed to stare at the man.

Because that, as we all know, was so very helpful.

[[FOR THAT GUY]]

Comments

[thinkbetterofme]

That, most definitely, was a new experience. Even his brother would not have managed to drag him up those several flights.

He was tugging at his tunic, rearranging it so he did not quite as... well as if someone had dragged him up four flours by it.

The stare was disconcerting, but Faramir was not one to run from it and now that he knew which way was up again, he could perhaps start talking. "Forgive me," he spoke quietly. "I should not have let that happen. I wronged you both."

[inneedofcoffee]

"Yes, try not to do that again or I'll be forced to do something rash."

BECAUSE DRAGGING HIM UP TO HER ROOM WASN'T.

[thinkbetterofme]

There were perhaps more appropriate things to say at this instant. Like a promise that there would be no need, though the promise seemed a hard one to keep as he had not entirely chosen to act in such a manner. Not that he wished to shirk all responsibility of his actions.

"Something rash?" he asked instead, because he was trying to imagine what that would be.

[inneedofcoffee]

"Possibly involving bathing in blood." A beat. "It's horrible to get out of hair."