Uncomfortable made sense, the way she looked and moved these days, but Elias still frowned, worried it was more.
If they had been alright, he would have sat on the couch and beckoned her over, to curl in beside him – but she was in the armchair already, and it had probably taken her long enough to get comfortable there. But it felt wrong to sit so far away from her, on Christmas morning, to face her from a distance, oddly formal opposite her. Instead, Elias sank down onto the rug, leaning against the couch and stretching his legs out towards the fire in the hearth.
He glanced up at her from here, marginally closer, and – he didn’t know if it was the flickering light from the flames, or that her eyes were shadowed from the lack of sleep, or if she had just been crying. He opened his mouth to ask her, but bit back the question, convinced Daff would only take it the wrong way, take it as an instruction to please stop. He swallowed.
“Happy Christmas.” She couldn’t even be unhappy in front of him now. He pushed a hand across his face and into his hair, as if he could somehow scrub out this reality and exchange it for another. “I’m sorry, Daff. I’d – really like it to be one.” Happy. Or was it just too late for the day already, when they had started off this low?
If they had been alright, he would have sat on the couch and beckoned her over, to curl in beside him – but she was in the armchair already, and it had probably taken her long enough to get comfortable there. But it felt wrong to sit so far away from her, on Christmas morning, to face her from a distance, oddly formal opposite her. Instead, Elias sank down onto the rug, leaning against the couch and stretching his legs out towards the fire in the hearth.
He glanced up at her from here, marginally closer, and – he didn’t know if it was the flickering light from the flames, or that her eyes were shadowed from the lack of sleep, or if she had just been crying. He opened his mouth to ask her, but bit back the question, convinced Daff would only take it the wrong way, take it as an instruction to please stop. He swallowed.
“Happy Christmas.” She couldn’t even be unhappy in front of him now. He pushed a hand across his face and into his hair, as if he could somehow scrub out this reality and exchange it for another. “I’m sorry, Daff. I’d – really like it to be one.” Happy. Or was it just too late for the day already, when they had started off this low?
look ANOTHER beautiful bee!set <3