Yes, he's perfectly happily married but that doesn't mean he isn't allowed a break from the drudgery of doing rote and repetitive magic for the king, whether or not his title stays Royal Wizard.
He's not seen Angela in a long time, but he happens to think that tears, no matter how bravely hidden, don't really become her. It's with that in mind that he approaches -- hesitantly and politely -- and conjures a simple fragrant yellow rose for her.
"Because it matches your hair, my dear." His voice is soft, almost a whisper. There appears to be a high level of anguish at work here, and far be it for him to cause it to become even more unsettled than it already looks to be. His only hope is to provide some small comfort. "But perhaps a tissue would have been more useful."
When the rose comes into her line of sight, she blinks, a little confused, and looks up. She tries to smile but it doesn't stay long, if at all. "Hi, Howl. It's beautiful," she whispers.
She wipes tears from her eyes and takes a shaky breath. "I'm going to leak all over Milliways," she says, sniffling.
"Here. We can take care of that." With a flick of his hand there's a tissue; he hands it to her. "It's all right if I sit? I don't want to impose."
He's being awfully polite for someone who allegedly steals young womens' hearts and souls. It isn't that he's actually reformed: it's that he never did the thing in the first place and really, that rumor hasn't followed him here.
At least he doesn't think so. But just in case it has, he's hedging his bets tonight. Angela looks so very sad.
Angela takes the tissue and says, "Thank you. And...please sit. I'd rather not be by myself right now." She presses the tissue against her eyes and sighs.
She'll just feel more miserable, and lonely on top of it all. And if she can avoid thoughts of how her boyfriend died, she'd rather.
Though she has a feeling that won't be possible for a long while yet. And right now it feels like it'll never be possible.
Jack wraps his arms around her tightly, stroking her hair for a moment without saying anything. A couple minutes pass in silence before he asks, softly, "Melou?"
Angela nods, a huge sob escaping her. "I can't...I don't think I can take this."
It sounds horribly weak, but she's known him since she was fifteen. She loved him, and she'd never see him again. First loves don't usually end like this.
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He's not seen Angela in a long time, but he happens to think that tears, no matter how bravely hidden, don't really become her. It's with that in mind that he approaches -- hesitantly and politely -- and conjures a simple fragrant yellow rose for her.
"Because it matches your hair, my dear." His voice is soft, almost a whisper. There appears to be a high level of anguish at work here, and far be it for him to cause it to become even more unsettled than it already looks to be. His only hope is to provide some small comfort. "But perhaps a tissue would have been more useful."
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She wipes tears from her eyes and takes a shaky breath. "I'm going to leak all over Milliways," she says, sniffling.
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He's being awfully polite for someone who allegedly steals young womens' hearts and souls. It isn't that he's actually reformed: it's that he never did the thing in the first place and really, that rumor hasn't followed him here.
At least he doesn't think so. But just in case it has, he's hedging his bets tonight. Angela looks so very sad.
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She'll just feel more miserable, and lonely on top of it all. And if she can avoid thoughts of how her boyfriend died, she'd rather.
Though she has a feeling that won't be possible for a long while yet. And right now it feels like it'll never be possible.
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"You Okay?"
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"Not really," she says, wiping tears with the back of her hand.
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Her eyes are burning again and she blinks to get the tears out.
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"Hey, sweetheart," he says, softly. He has a pretty good idea what this is about.
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It sounds horribly weak, but she's known him since she was fifteen. She loved him, and she'd never see him again. First loves don't usually end like this.
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Her chest aches just a little when she spots the young woman crying. She'd know her anywhere.
"Angie girl?" She's at her side in a matter of moments. "What happened?"
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She can't mourn alone. Once, she'd have been okay with being alone, but not now.
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If someone hurt her daughter she'll kill them.
"I'm here," she murmurs, holding her tightly. "It's okay."
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I loved him so much and now he's gone. I don't know if I can deal with it.
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