[He can feel the spike in her mood -- a good one -- and it conflicts with what he knows of this room. He smiles, strained, one hand braced against the doorframe as he watches her move about.]
Good. It's about time this mausoleum of a room found life again.
[Because this was once his mother's room, all those years ago. He won't tell her that much. It might unsettle her, and honestly, it's not a line of conversation he particularly wants to go down.
He won't step in, but he'll gesture in a mockery of a fake bow from where he stands.]
no subject
Good. It's about time this mausoleum of a room found life again.
[Because this was once his mother's room, all those years ago. He won't tell her that much. It might unsettle her, and honestly, it's not a line of conversation he particularly wants to go down.
He won't step in, but he'll gesture in a mockery of a fake bow from where he stands.]
All yours to do whatever you want with.