[ Faint traces of Aerith's flower-sweet presence linger in the car. His gaze drifts out toward the bar's entrance. As the engine idles quietly beneath dim lights, Tseng's eyes fall shut for a breath too long. With his left hand light on the wheel, he covers the smooth face of his watch with his thumb, counting the quiet seconds by feel.
His gaze lifts the instant she reappears, sooner than anticipated, and he watches as she crosses the street with purposeful steps. Tseng accepts the cup without a word. He lets warmth seep into his fingers, rather than drinking it just yet. There's something faintly self-effacing in his expression when she says why. ]
Thank you. [ The coffee isn't necessary, strictly speaking—but Aerith always seems to know when practicality isn't the point. ] You didn't have to. [ It's not admonishment. The sharp edges of weariness are dulled, and Tseng's focus ebbs just enough to suggest that his mind isn't entirely occupied with the task at hand, of hurrying her home. ]
[ He lifts the coffee away, freeing her hand up to wave dismissively at him after Tseng tells her she wasn't obligated to bring him anything. ]
It's the least I can do, isn't it? Considering how I'm keeping you up late.
[ If Aerith stopped to think about it, she would notice her own sleepiness beginning to encroach, but she's too busy trying to push aside that pang of remorse that lingers on the edge of her consciousness, a reminder that he'll drive her home quickly, and that will be that.
Her efforts aren't good enough to stave off the tightness in her jaw, or the dour look in her eyes that contradicts the bright tone of voice she's been trying for ever since she returned to the car. The thought of how wrong she was to think he wanted to draw this out as much as she did sitting heavy on her mind, ignoring all attempts to push past it. ]
[ He puts the cup in the console holder. Keeping him up late isn’t the problem, he’d like to tell her. He should sound grateful and mild, but all that Tseng manages is factuality. ]
But you didn’t need to go out of your way. [ For the coffee. Or his, with the scarf.
As much as he tries to speak free of sentiment or reprimand, this is as redundant as telling her not to stay out late at all. There’s only so much he can (and will) do. Of course, she’ll cut a hole in the fence of her boundaries, only to fall back into the moat the Turks keep digging deeper and wider around her. It’s a small concession that this isn’t their first night to end like this, and Tseng has slept on an even more bitter conscience. ]
I’m taking you home now. [ He says, coinciding with her unsung awareness that the night needs to end here. He’ll bring her to Leaf House; Tseng takes the street with the long red light again. ]
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Date: 2024-12-09 12:30 am (UTC)His gaze lifts the instant she reappears, sooner than anticipated, and he watches as she crosses the street with purposeful steps. Tseng accepts the cup without a word. He lets warmth seep into his fingers, rather than drinking it just yet. There's something faintly self-effacing in his expression when she says why. ]
Thank you. [ The coffee isn't necessary, strictly speaking—but Aerith always seems to know when practicality isn't the point. ] You didn't have to. [ It's not admonishment. The sharp edges of weariness are dulled, and Tseng's focus ebbs just enough to suggest that his mind isn't entirely occupied with the task at hand, of hurrying her home. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-12-17 03:52 am (UTC)It's the least I can do, isn't it? Considering how I'm keeping you up late.
[ If Aerith stopped to think about it, she would notice her own sleepiness beginning to encroach, but she's too busy trying to push aside that pang of remorse that lingers on the edge of her consciousness, a reminder that he'll drive her home quickly, and that will be that.
Her efforts aren't good enough to stave off the tightness in her jaw, or the dour look in her eyes that contradicts the bright tone of voice she's been trying for ever since she returned to the car. The thought of how wrong she was to think he wanted to draw this out as much as she did sitting heavy on her mind, ignoring all attempts to push past it. ]
no subject
Date: 2024-12-19 03:01 pm (UTC)But you didn’t need to go out of your way. [ For the coffee. Or his, with the scarf.
As much as he tries to speak free of sentiment or reprimand, this is as redundant as telling her not to stay out late at all. There’s only so much he can (and will) do. Of course, she’ll cut a hole in the fence of her boundaries, only to fall back into the moat the Turks keep digging deeper and wider around her. It’s a small concession that this isn’t their first night to end like this, and Tseng has slept on an even more bitter conscience. ]
I’m taking you home now. [ He says, coinciding with her unsung awareness that the night needs to end here. He’ll bring her to Leaf House; Tseng takes the street with the long red light again. ]