It is a beautiful day, across the grounds. Blue rolling sky. Thin white clouds. Rolling green grass. Which might be true, or, more aptly, might be more helpful, if Marian didn't feel like she was looking through it, and beyond it, the way one did with the window panes of glass in Milliways and Arch. When she's seeing it, but she's not seeing it. Glancing to one side to Kate, who had at least found her.
Grateful that it had been easier than most of the things Security had ever dragged her in to, even in the spurt of the oddest restless awkwardness, facing away, while clothing rustled in quick movements behind them. A quick thing all together, when Marian is shifting the moment Kate's turning to look at being touched. Handed back her things with an expression on Caspian's face that looks so very, barely, mollified for the addition of the clothes.
That do fit. And are back where they should be. When she's not trying to reconcile the fall of his shirt on his shoulder and a slope of bone there. Milliways. Living to make things unexpectedly awkward. At least they had stopped it before anything else could happen to him. At least it was only them. That he was fixing them with that flushed, and all too courtly, expression, only settled to tug at something else in her.
Drawing her hands together in front of her as she nodded, as though it were a given. There was little he'd ever need ask of her, even when he couldn't ask, that she wouldn't try if she could. That was less troubling than the knowledge the expression on his face would take even longer to wear away, likely. "Perhaps, you'd be willing to explain what it was that put you in that state?"
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Grateful that it had been easier than most of the things Security had ever dragged her in to, even in the spurt of the oddest restless awkwardness, facing away, while clothing rustled in quick movements behind them. A quick thing all together, when Marian is shifting the moment Kate's turning to look at being touched. Handed back her things with an expression on Caspian's face that looks so very, barely, mollified for the addition of the clothes.
That do fit. And are back where they should be. When she's not trying to reconcile the fall of his shirt on his shoulder and a slope of bone there. Milliways. Living to make things unexpectedly awkward. At least they had stopped it before anything else could happen to him. At least it was only them. That he was fixing them with that flushed, and all too courtly, expression, only settled to tug at something else in her.
Drawing her hands together in front of her as she nodded, as though it were a given. There was little he'd ever need ask of her, even when he couldn't ask, that she wouldn't try if she could. That was less troubling than the knowledge the expression on his face would take even longer to wear away, likely. "Perhaps, you'd be willing to explain what it was that put you in that state?"