[ Isaac works nights. By now, of course. Ilias knows this. Even comes by from time to time with a pot of tea, or to ask after an herb, or just to say hello, letting a touch linger on elbow or forearm like neither of them have noticed how often that keeps happening. Since Ghislain, he's there a little more often, working at the hand. Three severed tendons that don't quite want to knit.
He isn't there tonight. Where he is, as becomes evident only at the very end of Isaac's shift, is at the end of the fourth floor hallway of the Templar tower, outside Isaac's door. A shadow near the window, head back, pale face meeting with pale hand to exhale a matching shade of smoke from cigarillos he shouldn't be smoking, out into the cold he shouldn't be letting in.
Stubs it out with Circle-trained swiftness, at the approach of steps.
He wishes he'd brought wine. He wishes this were the sort of visit that might have started with a bottle of wine and gone— anywhere. Anywhere else. ]
Can I ask you something? In private. About the battle.
[ The battle was more than a week ago. Sending crystals exist. Ilias is wearing his usual warmth like someone's shrunk it in the wash. That's probably all fine. ]
action;
He isn't there tonight. Where he is, as becomes evident only at the very end of Isaac's shift, is at the end of the fourth floor hallway of the Templar tower, outside Isaac's door. A shadow near the window, head back, pale face meeting with pale hand to exhale a matching shade of smoke from cigarillos he shouldn't be smoking, out into the cold he shouldn't be letting in.
Stubs it out with Circle-trained swiftness, at the approach of steps.
He wishes he'd brought wine. He wishes this were the sort of visit that might have started with a bottle of wine and gone— anywhere. Anywhere else. ]
Can I ask you something? In private. About the battle.
[ The battle was more than a week ago. Sending crystals exist. Ilias is wearing his usual warmth like someone's shrunk it in the wash. That's probably all fine. ]