[ 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. ]
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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. ]