Ari pushed his champagne flute around the table, using the base of it to smooth out a crease in the tablecloth, and shot a casual glance at the whiskey Nemo was not-really-drinking, trying to figure out if tired was all.
He suspected not. Nemo was as patient as a Fisk could possibly be, and although a room full of all the family and more was a big ask of anyone for too long, his youngest brother did not usually look quite so downcast.
“I know the feeling,” Ari said, with a sympathetic smile. Although he wasn’t that tired, and he had nearly fifteen years on Nemo, which ought to give him extra excuse to be easily tired. “Safer, I think, on this side of the room,” he said, raising his eyebrows idly at some of the more zealous dancing now going on, before settling back in his chair, supposing he might as well actually let his feet rest while he checked on Nemo. “Work been busy, then?”
He suspected not. Nemo was as patient as a Fisk could possibly be, and although a room full of all the family and more was a big ask of anyone for too long, his youngest brother did not usually look quite so downcast.
“I know the feeling,” Ari said, with a sympathetic smile. Although he wasn’t that tired, and he had nearly fifteen years on Nemo, which ought to give him extra excuse to be easily tired. “Safer, I think, on this side of the room,” he said, raising his eyebrows idly at some of the more zealous dancing now going on, before settling back in his chair, supposing he might as well actually let his feet rest while he checked on Nemo. “Work been busy, then?”
