[She doesn't need encouragement. She's suitably obnoxious on her own, which is why, all bright eyes and sparkling smiles, she nods and hums as she shifts her belongings between her arms.]
Oh, good! I didn't wanna get in the way of your job. I found the best bakery, though— [With this, she reaches into the bag while delicately balancing her drink tray still, and retrieves a second smaller bag. There's a croissant in it, but Gaelio will have to take it from her as she holds it out and open it up before he finds out.]
It's right on the way so I thought I'd get you something, too! [It's taken her a few days to find any sort of routine, to settle back into going to school, to being in the city, to feel like she's really scrubbed off the dirt and dust enough to indulge in things like croissants. If anything, she's embarrassed that it's taken her any time at all to consider finding somewhere she can pick up anything extra for the not-friend she sees on her way to school and back every day.] One of these is yours, too. [She shifts the drink tray, oh-so-careful.] I'm not really supposed to have coffee, so I wasn't sure what to get. I hope it's okay like it is!
[ Then, active discouragement ought to have been his route. Though he would not have judged her "suitably obnoxious."
In fact, with each shift so uneventful, he's dangerously close to welcoming her presence. Rather than in the way, she distracts the winding out of his mind, keeps him tethered closer to the present where his eyes have little trouble keeping track of the motion around them.
If focused more, just now, on that second bag. He recognizes the symbol on it, and the lettering. Recent developments keep his lips from frowning as they might once have, but he's thrown enough to take the bag without protest. Besides, to leave her holding it out while managing all the rest would be more than cold.
Which doesn't mean he wasn't tempted. ]
You... got me something.
[ Repeated, a bit stupidly, as he tugs open the bag. Warm, flakey, a buttery and terrific scent. Now he frowns, but it's puzzled, mild, and entirely at the pasty. ]
And coffee. Yuna --
[ A reprimand on the tip of his tongue, weary and weighing her name, but the tenor abruptly shifts caught by the second drink. Still disapproving, but for a different reason. ]
[It's too late to discourage her. She's in it to win it, her smile warming at that dumb bafflement he offers. If anything, it assures her that she's done the right thing, if he's so confused over what she sees as such a small gesture. If she'll be going back and forth by him every day, why wouldn't she think of him at what's going to become her daily bakery stop, too? Never mind her quest to befriend him; this is just what she ought to do.
She laughs a little at the start of a scolding that follows, though; once the bag's been freed from her hand she takes one drink, sniffs at the opening, then sets it down in the tray.]
No, mine's hot chocolate! [She takes the other drink and holds it out to Gaelio.] My parents don't really want me to have that much caffeine, so I'm not supposed to have coffee. I thought you might like some, though!
[ The muddled expression keeps as he regards the cup, again obliging by accepting it, rather than forcing Yuna to hold it out for any longer. Working around his grip on the bag, he tugs out the splash stick. ]
Good. We might have needed to have words. Coffee would stunt your growth.
[ A mild comment before he tips back the cup, and vague enough that she might not realize he refers not to her, but to the man working the counter at the bakery. While he's fairly sure that the inexplicably surviving old wive's tale regarding coffee isn't true, the mental image of Yuna on caffeine is one that proves too formidable for him.
As for the coffee: his eye twitches, but he swallows it. Too sweet. He would. Gaelio looks between the bag and cup in his hands, and the girl's earnest, eager expression. ]
[She doesn't realize at all, as a matter of fact, that she has two dads now and that that scolding was intended for one of them instead of for her, so that usual smile stays, a little brighter as he thanks her, not dimming at all at what he says next.]
Oh—Sorry, should I get you hot chocolate next time, too?
[Said sincerely as ever, eager to just get his drink right as much as anything.]
You don't have to worry about the credits or anything, if that's it, since I've been doing lots of volunteer work when I'm not in school and the man at the bakery is really nice and always gives me a discount!
[ A convenient misinterpretation. Gaelio has no incentive to correct her, not only because it would chance opening the subject of the bakery's employee, so he says nothing in response. Even to add I'm not as to worried would be an opening, as he can see well enough it would be a blatant contradiction to what he'd just said.
Only, there is an impulse to say as much, kneejerk. Swallowing it with another sip of coffee draws his attention to it, to the obnoxious fact that an intention to speak with that man on her behalf would suggest worry, and so, to the arguable fact that he might have worried about her.
Over as insignificant a thing as coffee.
Dismissing it over concern for his own capacity in possibly having to deal with her over-caffeinated doesn't quite do it. ]
Coffee's fine, [ though this cup too sweet, ] but don't let there be a next time.
You should be saving your credits for more important things.
[ But it sounds like an afterthought, because it is. That man would give a cute kid a discount. Gaelio expects he would even if not favoring the whole coven. Funny, bizarre even, that it resurfaces: the urge to roll his eyes. Which, in turn, makes him realize he hasn't done it in two years. It fuzzes through his head, that old peripheral fraying, centered with fissure.
Gaelio does not break the streak. He doesn't roll his eyes now. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Oh, good! I didn't wanna get in the way of your job. I found the best bakery, though— [With this, she reaches into the bag while delicately balancing her drink tray still, and retrieves a second smaller bag. There's a croissant in it, but Gaelio will have to take it from her as she holds it out and open it up before he finds out.]
It's right on the way so I thought I'd get you something, too! [It's taken her a few days to find any sort of routine, to settle back into going to school, to being in the city, to feel like she's really scrubbed off the dirt and dust enough to indulge in things like croissants. If anything, she's embarrassed that it's taken her any time at all to consider finding somewhere she can pick up anything extra for the not-friend she sees on her way to school and back every day.] One of these is yours, too. [She shifts the drink tray, oh-so-careful.] I'm not really supposed to have coffee, so I wasn't sure what to get. I hope it's okay like it is!
no subject
In fact, with each shift so uneventful, he's dangerously close to welcoming her presence. Rather than in the way, she distracts the winding out of his mind, keeps him tethered closer to the present where his eyes have little trouble keeping track of the motion around them.
If focused more, just now, on that second bag. He recognizes the symbol on it, and the lettering. Recent developments keep his lips from frowning as they might once have, but he's thrown enough to take the bag without protest. Besides, to leave her holding it out while managing all the rest would be more than cold.
Which doesn't mean he wasn't tempted. ]
You... got me something.
[ Repeated, a bit stupidly, as he tugs open the bag. Warm, flakey, a buttery and terrific scent. Now he frowns, but it's puzzled, mild, and entirely at the pasty. ]
And coffee. Yuna --
[ A reprimand on the tip of his tongue, weary and weighing her name, but the tenor abruptly shifts caught by the second drink. Still disapproving, but for a different reason. ]
-- did you get yourself coffee?
no subject
She laughs a little at the start of a scolding that follows, though; once the bag's been freed from her hand she takes one drink, sniffs at the opening, then sets it down in the tray.]
No, mine's hot chocolate! [She takes the other drink and holds it out to Gaelio.] My parents don't really want me to have that much caffeine, so I'm not supposed to have coffee. I thought you might like some, though!
[hopefully his boyfriend knows his coffee order]
no subject
Good. We might have needed to have words. Coffee would stunt your growth.
[ A mild comment before he tips back the cup, and vague enough that she might not realize he refers not to her, but to the man working the counter at the bakery. While he's fairly sure that the inexplicably surviving old wive's tale regarding coffee isn't true, the mental image of Yuna on caffeine is one that proves too formidable for him.
As for the coffee: his eye twitches, but he swallows it. Too sweet. He would. Gaelio looks between the bag and cup in his hands, and the girl's earnest, eager expression. ]
Thanks.
[ ...but... ]
Don't do it again.
no subject
[She doesn't realize at all, as a matter of fact, that she has two dads now and that that scolding was intended for one of them instead of for her, so that usual smile stays, a little brighter as he thanks her, not dimming at all at what he says next.]
Oh—Sorry, should I get you hot chocolate next time, too?
[Said sincerely as ever, eager to just get his drink right as much as anything.]
You don't have to worry about the credits or anything, if that's it, since I've been doing lots of volunteer work when I'm not in school and the man at the bakery is really nice and always gives me a discount!
no subject
Only, there is an impulse to say as much, kneejerk. Swallowing it with another sip of coffee draws his attention to it, to the obnoxious fact that an intention to speak with that man on her behalf would suggest worry, and so, to the arguable fact that he might have worried about her.
Over as insignificant a thing as coffee.
Dismissing it over concern for his own capacity in possibly having to deal with her over-caffeinated doesn't quite do it. ]
Coffee's fine, [ though this cup too sweet, ] but don't let there be a next time.
You should be saving your credits for more important things.
[ But it sounds like an afterthought, because it is. That man would give a cute kid a discount. Gaelio expects he would even if not favoring the whole coven. Funny, bizarre even, that it resurfaces: the urge to roll his eyes. Which, in turn, makes him realize he hasn't done it in two years. It fuzzes through his head, that old peripheral fraying, centered with fissure.
Gaelio does not break the streak. He doesn't roll his eyes now. ]
Don't think of me.
[ This might get redundant. ]