[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]oh.

she blinks.

he accepted. he came in?

her mental facilities are, admittedly, sluggish at the moment but his decision still doesn't fit her line of thinking. it had settled into the hopeful category and she'd been prepared to squash her own hopes herself.

it seems they're safe for another night.

"thank you," she murmurs softly. a hand stretches out and lights flicker on a moment later. the hall is small, quaint, warm. somehow, it's half a home if she stops to think about it.

and she doesn't. she slips heels off and pads across hardwood floors, venturing further into her home, her hand running along the wall to keep from toppling.

"do you want anything to drink?"

FERNANDO SILPH
mission

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]her head turns to glance back when he calls out.

and for a moment, she pauses, stills.

their shoes. it's an odd sight, his next to hers. it stirs something up in her. and she's quick to turn back around, to keep moving forward.

"comin' up," she mumbles happily as her kitchen finally comes into sight. has her hallway always been that long? no, it couldn't be, right?

the countertops get in her way and she jostles, letting out a little yelp. she keeps moving, otherwise unharmed, and reaches for the fridge without a second thought.

the cold water bottle settles onto the counter a moment later. and then, she follows, hoisting herself up to sit at the edge of the counter.

her feet dangle, drawing little circles as she watches him.

"i'm surprised you agreed to come in."

FERNANDO SILPH
mission

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]"i dunno," she drawls, eyes dropping to stare down at her feet. they circle once more and then stop. her eyes return a moment later.

the water bottle is outstretched. she stares, blinks, and accepts.

"why would you?" it's curious, mostly. and maybe even a bit self-deprecating but she's distracted by raising the water bottle to her lips without spilling.

a sip follows before she's holding it back out for him to take.

FERNANDO SILPH
mission

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]she huffs.

an adorable pout greets playfulness and her arms rise to cross over her chest.

"i wouldn't do that," she argues as if she has any sound logic behind it. she doesn't but she can pretend. "besides, i didn't take you for the concerned type."

he isn't. he couldn't be.

she colors a soft pink at the mention. right, she didn't want to sing there...

and now she's caught between a rock and a hard place.

"i," she tries. any argument dies out in her throat. and what does illeana do when she can't think of anything to say?

she asks questions.

"why do you want me to sing?"

FERNANDO SILPH
mission

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]when hasn't he?

she thinks of water, sea foam, and blades. and then, of a borrowed aegislash and how it still hadn't been enough.

her hips shift awkwardly atop the counter.

"i suppose you have," she finally murmurs. he's been unusually kind to her, in a way she didn't quite expect. it's been like this for... two years now? an intern molded and crafted by his hands to become something more.

and would he do that if he didn't care? perhaps.

she hums soft understanding and her feet resume drawing circles in air.

her alternative is, possibly, one they both remember. it exists in the background of this exchange, in the way her body doesn't seem to stop moving and his hands don't know what to do.

"if you want me to, i -- i could."

but... are they talking about the same thing?

FERNANDO SILPH
mission

[attr="class","illie"]

[attr="class","illie b"]

[attr="class","illie i"]her mouth opens to respond... and nothing comes out.

the beep of his watch silences any words she could have said.

and she watches with a quiet curiosity as his expression shifts. it morphs into something that claws at her skin, something that makes her nervous. and if she didn't know better, she'd almost say it instills a fear of him leaving.

that's foolish thinking, though. why would she be afraid of that? she ignores the soft voice that supplies an answer.

and her hand rises as if to pull him closer, as if she needs his body heat to feel secure. it falls a moment later.

"do you have other things to do?"

FERNANDO SILPH
mission