“Good,” He shrugged back and grabbed the bottle, pouring the last of the rum into his mouth. He placed the bottle firmly back on the table and huffed, “because it isn’t.”
Merlin, he wished he understood what was happening right now. He didn’t. He couldn’t. There was no sense to what was happen so where would he even start by trying to deconstruct this entire situation he and Emmeline had found themselves in?
“Rums all gone now,” He looked upward slightly before leaning toward her with a soft smile, “So I guess we’ll just have to talk. What’s your favourite colour?”
Maybe if he occupied her with questions, she wouldn’t ask her own that made him uncomfortable. That is, emotional. Uncomfortable and emotional were the same thing to Charles. Mostly only when it came to Emmeline, though.
Merlin, he wished he understood what was happening right now. He didn’t. He couldn’t. There was no sense to what was happen so where would he even start by trying to deconstruct this entire situation he and Emmeline had found themselves in?
“Rums all gone now,” He looked upward slightly before leaning toward her with a soft smile, “So I guess we’ll just have to talk. What’s your favourite colour?”
Maybe if he occupied her with questions, she wouldn’t ask her own that made him uncomfortable. That is, emotional. Uncomfortable and emotional were the same thing to Charles. Mostly only when it came to Emmeline, though.