Natsuko had been pleased that she had been seated in such a position, at the front of the box that meant she could not have looked at him without making it incredibly obvious and still her neck ached from the effort of keeping her vision straight ahead, the effort of not looking at him worse than just biting the bullet, and now faced with him, she felt the tension leave her shoulders and upper back. Relaxing in his presence, as she often found herself doing. Whatever admonishment or public castigation she had been half expecting from him -didn't come. But she was still surprised when he switched seats to sit closer to her, and she met his gaze with a soft one of her own.
Suki had to admit that, in spite of herself, she liked this, sitting with him, talking with him, just with him. It felt natural, the thing that had made the last few months so engaging and fun - the easy friendship that had formed between them, joking about their exuberant affection for their owls, an indulgence which few others understood it seemed, and their teasing perspicacity that she rather enjoyed, that in Suki's case at least had allowed her affection to grow, to slip behind her society mask and get to her.
Natsuko gave a small fond sigh, 'Yes, I love the Opera, this was my Aunts box for years, but her interest has wained, and when the opportunity came I took over the boxes sponsorship' she explained, 'There is something to be said for singing something loudly and in Italian to make heart break all the more palatable.' She glanced toward the stage where the woman playing Violetta was singing 'Amami, Alfredo, amami quant'io t'amo', her farewell note to her love, telling him of her love as she prepares to leave him. The irony tasted bitter in her mouth.
'And you Mister Foxwood?' she asked her brow raised, looking back to him her expression warm with affection she couldn't entirely hide, 'do you enjoy Opera or are you only joining us out of sufference?' she coloured a little at the innocent question that could have sounded rather pointed if he remember the garden - which of course she was sure he didn't. 'I mean' she tried to recover, 'Are we taking you from more enjoyable diversions this evening?' she managed a small, lame smile.
Suki had to admit that, in spite of herself, she liked this, sitting with him, talking with him, just with him. It felt natural, the thing that had made the last few months so engaging and fun - the easy friendship that had formed between them, joking about their exuberant affection for their owls, an indulgence which few others understood it seemed, and their teasing perspicacity that she rather enjoyed, that in Suki's case at least had allowed her affection to grow, to slip behind her society mask and get to her.
Natsuko gave a small fond sigh, 'Yes, I love the Opera, this was my Aunts box for years, but her interest has wained, and when the opportunity came I took over the boxes sponsorship' she explained, 'There is something to be said for singing something loudly and in Italian to make heart break all the more palatable.' She glanced toward the stage where the woman playing Violetta was singing 'Amami, Alfredo, amami quant'io t'amo', her farewell note to her love, telling him of her love as she prepares to leave him. The irony tasted bitter in her mouth.
'And you Mister Foxwood?' she asked her brow raised, looking back to him her expression warm with affection she couldn't entirely hide, 'do you enjoy Opera or are you only joining us out of sufference?' she coloured a little at the innocent question that could have sounded rather pointed if he remember the garden - which of course she was sure he didn't. 'I mean' she tried to recover, 'Are we taking you from more enjoyable diversions this evening?' she managed a small, lame smile.
![[Image: 1h84GbB.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/1h84GbB.jpg)
Gin made something stunning