Forgiven

[death_glare]

[ No one questioned anything when William suddenly left his office that morning. "I've been called to a meeting" was all the information he gave the rest of Dispatch. To them, it wasn't surprising, seeing as he was the head of the department. For William, however, the summoning came with zero notice. As he made his way to the upper managements' offices, all he could wonder was what issue his subordinates caused that he'd have to clean up after, this time.

It wasn't until lunch break that William returned to Dispatch. The others expected they'd get reprimanded for something, but William remained quiet, his face expressionless as he closed the door to his office. ]

Comments

[death_glare]

[ William lifts his book up in an attempt to block himself should Grell fall directly on him. Not to catch her, of course. But when she manages to keep her footing he resettles himself. ]

You're already up, you may as well proceed.

[untodeath]

[ Righting herself with a sigh, it takes her a moment to process that he's actually consented to hearing her recite! Head titled, her lips are quirked into a smile of disbelief! ]

Well. Fortunately for me, I've come across one of my favourites.

[ Holding the book to her chest, she doesn't need to look at the lines to this sonnet. She puts on quite the show, with grand sweeping gestures of her hands, voice clear and emphatic. Once done, she crosses her legs and bends into a flamboyant bow!

Upon standing, she heaves the biggest, happiest sigh. ]

I think a performance like that deserves a sweet to follow! Don't you agree? Perhaps some of those biscuits...

[death_glare]

[ He gives her the benefit of his full attention and none of it surprises him. The motions, the cadence to her voice, it's all so her. There's no applause when she's finished, but he does nod his head, getting up to join her in getting some sweets. ]

Is there a particular reason that one is your favourite?

[untodeath]

[ Eyes warming, she reaches out to take his hand, so that they she may eagerly tug him along. ]

Mn, the subject matter, the language, the execution - but it's also fairly unique to his other works. It fails to connect the speaker to the words personally, though conveyed as through experience. It adds a deeper sense of defensiveness, shame-- brilliant complexity!

[death_glare]

[ Obediently following along, or what may seem as such, William runs the words over in his mind. Interestingly, he's familiar enough with the sonnet to know most of it on his own. ]

I think it could speak to someone on a personal level. Or, at the very least, it's relatable enough to make you feel as such.

[untodeath]

Oh, absolutely.

[ The reaper only releases his hand to reach up and rummage through the pantry. ]

What I mean to say is that the speaker generalises the subject, neglecting the use of pronouns, creating distance.

[ Finding the box of biscuits, she giggles in triumph!! And presents it to William with a grin. ]

Of course, I've found it relatable.

[death_glare]

If I'm interpreting his words correctly, wouldn't it no longer apply to you?

[ Oh that is a rather pleased look on his face as he takes the box. Flipping it open, he offers her a biscuit before taking two for himself. ]

[untodeath]

[ Oh, she's impressed that he's offered them before helping himself! Sweet in one hand, she scoops the other behind his neck, chuckling against his lips. She lingers after their kiss, forehead to his. ]

And never shall again.

[death_glare]

[ Perhaps he's slowly coming around to the fact that Grell is the lady in his life and he should act more gentlemanly towards her! Thankfully, though, she got that kiss in before he shoved a biscuit in his mouth. ]

Have you ever written a sonnet, or otherwise?

[untodeath]

[ It seems they'll need to keep the box, she muses, whilst taking a bite out of her own. Licking the crumbs off her lips, she quirks a brow - and snatches said box away! Making for the exit to the sitting area, she quips back to him over her shoulder. ]

If you hadn't thrown away all those love letters I'd left on your desk, you'd know the answer to that! [ But, by her tone, she isn't actually angry.

She's still running a little funny, though. ]

[death_glare]

[ Not wanting her to eat up all the biscuits without him, he follows right along. ]

Perhaps if I'd bothered to read any of them.

[untodeath]

Are you implying that you at least opened them? Why, I'm flattered.

[ Plopping back down on the blanket, she shoves another into her mouth tauntingly! ]

[death_glare]

If I did, it was on accident.

[ Because the red envelope and scent of perfume would have made it blend in with any other mail, surely. He eases himself back down to the floor, fussing a bit with the pillows to make his seat comfortable, once more. ]

[untodeath]

And what did you accidentally read, hm?

[ Okay, since he's apparently not threatened just yet, she'll just have to eat another! Except, now she needs to wash them down with what's left of her tea. And they'd just been in the kitchen, too. Damn. ]

[death_glare]

[ Now that he's finally settled, he takes note of how many she's eaten! He snatches the box away, taking a few before setting it down out of her reach. ]

I can't recall, it must not have made an impression. Perhaps you'll have to write me another.

[untodeath]

[ About time! Though, perhaps she should've taken the time to savour those a bit more, now that they're gone. Lips quirked off to the side, she gets up to drape herself over his chest. ]

Now, don't go blaming your poor memory on my writing! Perhaps I could, though, as it might spark some remembrance...

[death_glare]

[ There's a slight hint of irritation on his face as he now has to reach around her to get to those biscuits. But at least he isn't shoving her away! ]

Then get on with it, before I forget this instance, as well.

[untodeath]

[ With a tilt of the head, her brows furrow with a curiously lopsided grin. ]

What, you want me to write it for you right now?

[death_glare]

Is that a problem?

[ He looks at her expectantly, finally managing to enjoy the treat. ]

[untodeath]

[ Rolling her eyes, though clearly amused, she teleports off without another word - and doesn't reappear until she's gathered a good amount of supplies. Writing parchment, her quill pen, red ink (of course), envelopes, and her perfume, for good measure.

Setting herself up before the fireplace, she puts her pillow down to prop herself on while laying out on her stomach, legs bent and crossed at the ankles. She hums to herself, drawing the pretty feather of her quill under her chin as she pulls for inspiration! ]

[death_glare]

[ It surprises him when she's suddenly vanished, but it gives him the chance to head back to the kitchen and refresh their drinks again. What he shouldn't be surprised about is finding her splayed out on the floor, deep in thought with all her supplies around her. He shakes his head, setting her cup within reaching distance. ]

Honestly, I thought you were going to put on a performance again, not literally write it down.

[untodeath]

[ She turns her head, plopping her cheek in her hand to give him a pointed look! ]

You said 'write', Will! If you wanted free form verse, that's entirely different.

[death_glare]

Fine. Compose, then.

[ Situating himself he enjoys another treat with a sip of his tea. ]

[untodeath]

[ Grell can't help but smile when taking up her cup to inhale its scent. ]

Well, now it would be a waste not to.

[ Feet swaying whilst she jots down ideas, she occasionally hums or croons when coming across a good one. Once she's got her rough draft down, she folds up the paper to toss into the fire! It's on to rewriting it in flowing script, then, working little hearts into its punctuation, and finishing it off with the note, To my beloved William, Grell, written extravagantly and dated. Once she's satisfied, she holds the paper up to finally mist the back, and gently waves in about to dry! ]

[death_glare]

[ The whole process is oddly intriguing to watch. He almost comments on her discarding the first sheet, but keeps it to himself when he sees the flowing red cursive start on the fresh piece of parchment. His eyes squint as he can't quite read it from the distance she's at, even with his renewed eyesight. ]

I will admit, I've always found that perfume of yours to be quite nice.