thedispatch | (no subject)

Still, I want to apologise.

[ As it seems she's finished with the cloth, he takes it up to wash down his own body. Though this time he takes not of just how much he's showing towards her and tries to make it as subtle as he can, given the close proximity they're in. ]

[ See how he hesitates, she removes her glasses to set aside, and busies herself with rising her face clean, hoping such will make him more comfortable. ]

It's alright, William. I understand.

[ Even if he did desire to be close, how could he really love her? Perhaps he thought she had a pretty face, but it's been ruined by battered teeth. She's truthfully not the most desirable woman, and a sad excuse of a man. Broken since birth. She wouldn't want to love her. ]

[ Even though she says so, he can tell she's taking the conversation harshly. All that confidence he'd felt building up in her - he feels he's inadvertently flushed it all away. He sighs, standing to let as much water fall from him as he can before stepping out of the tub. ]

This conversation aside, I still would like you to accompany me to tomorrow's gala.

[ Grell looks away, unpinning her hair to allow it to fall over her face. Now, she's made herself want to cry. How pathetic. ]

If that would please you.

[ It feels like a terrible idea, but he went through the trouble of buying her that dress for it... it would be ungrateful of her to say no. ]

I hope that it will please you, as well.

[ One of the towels is taken up and he pats himself dry, then wrapping it about his waist, he leaves for the bedroom to give her some privacy to finish up. ]

[ Grell falls into silence, dunking herself beneath the water to wet her hair.

Once she's finished, she realizes that she's much too weak to drain the tub on her own, despite her efforts - and so, she settles with leaving it for the morning, and smothers the fire, instead.

She retreats to her room, after that. Readies herself for bed early, and crawls under the covers for warmth. It just seems the right thing to do; she hasn't much energy for anything else. ]

[ When William returns from his room, it's obvious Grell has decided to retire for the night. He toys with the idea of entering her room to continue their talk, and perhaps patch up a few things, but he feels he may just make it worse. He never was very good at this sort of thing.

So, it's not much longer before he slips under his covers, as well. There's quite a bit running though his mind, and it does little to help him sleep. From their awkward bath to the stress of the next day's gala, to other thoughts that had been dancing around his head for the past week. It's something he's set to pack away and think little more on. But he knows that won't do either of them any good.

Tomorrow. I will say something to her tomorrow. He speaks the decision to himself in a whisper, as if she would hear through the wall. ]

[ The following morning, when William should decide to rise, he will hear her in the kitchen, making breakfast.

Clearly, she's been up for some time, as her hair is already done for the day - and it's been immaculately curled and pinned into place. In truth, she never properly slept, heart seeming chaos into her veins and clouding her mind. Keeping her hands busy was something of a distraction, at least.

And so, she stands there before the stove, hair beautiful but face bare, and a throw pulled close about her shoulders.

Upon hearing the other's footsteps, she sends him a startled glance, but quickly turns her head away in embarrassment, continuing to stir. ]

Good morning. [ Her voice is small. ]

[ He pauses in the doorway. The beauty of her hair is easily noticed, but he's torn on if he should compliment her on it. So instead he gives her a brief 'good morning' in return. The ice box has a pitcher of orange juice in it and he retrieves it to fill both their glasses. Then he takes a seat, unsure what would be the best thing to say in the moment. ]

... You've been up some time, it seems.

[ Muttering a quiet word of thanks, she pauses to take a sip from the glass left for her. She, too, is unsure what to say, and the opportunity that she's given herself to think on it does little to help. ]

I have, yes. [ Best not to lie, as any excuse she can think of might be too obvious, in any case. ]

[ Well, he shouldn't have expected that to last more than a brief response. ]

Do you need any help with finishing the meal? It smells quite good.

I suppose you could ready the plates, if you'd like. The beans are nearly done.

[ William seems to be trying quite hard, in his own way, so she'll bite. Even if it is a small task. ]

[ With a nod, he pulls some dishware from the cabinet, as well as some utensils for them both. They're set neatly before each seat before he reclaims his. The rest of the time, he watches her, noting the delicate way she pinned up her hair, but also the way her body moves. Tired, saddened. With a shake of his head he returns to his juice. ]

[ Grell takes the remaining time to cover the beans, so that she may serve up their coffee. Something for William to enjoy while he waits. Heading back to the stove with his plate, she loads it with the various components of a traditional English breakfast. Placing it gently down before him, she leaves with her own plate, to do the same. Wordlessly, until-- ]

Happy Christmas Eve.

[ The food looks wonderful and he thinks just how much she's learned and improved over the months since they met. But her greeting grabs back his attention. ]

Ah, yes. Happy Christmas Eve, as well. Oddly, it hadn't even come to mind, yet.

[ So many other thoughts have been distracting him, after all. ]

[ Setting her apron up on its hook, she returns to join him; setting down the plate she holds, she carefully readjusts her throw to act as a shawl while she eats. She hasn't changed into proper clothes yet, after all. ]

Ah... yes. [ Though she picks up her utensils, she stalls in using them, lips working in place as she eyes the food before her. ] I'm-- sorry about that. I didn't mean to ruin holiday.

[ His brow immediately creases. ]

How have you ruined it?

[ For a moment, she touches her fingertips to her lips. With a steadying breath, she swallows down those emotions. ]

I shouldn't have made that inappropriate comment.

Wishing me a happy Christmas Eve?

[ Whoosh, over his head. ]

[ Her eyes flicker up to his, a rather incredulous look on her face. ]

N..o..? The one that-- you know, led to this entire thing.

[ The frown fades from his features and he heaves a sigh. ]

I would rather we put that behind us. I don't believe either of us meant to offend one another.

[ Her shoulders slump just so. Now, she's failed by bringing it up again.

And so, silently, she just nods. ]

[ He'd thought, perhaps, that would have given her some relief, but it seems to have done the opposite. Should he give in and tell her now? He had hoped it could be a special moment. But perhaps now she wouldn't want to hear it.

William refocuses on his plate, humming in approval of each taste but not saying anything aloud. ]

[ The approval he gives does lift her spirits just so-- and the effort he puts into doing so.

Really, she's just being a child, she thinks. Perhaps she just wanted to hear that it's all okay, and it is only because she didn't that she is making assumptions.

Sitting herself a little taller, she begins to pick away at her meal, as well. ]

As far as getting ready goes, I was thinking that we could put on Christmas music and make cocoa, then I could take my time putting on my face this morning-- and then, after I make lunch, we could help one another dress...

[ Looking up, he lifts his cup of coffee - no cream and perfectly sweetened just how he likes, and listens to her suggestions. ]

That sounds like it should have us ready on time. Though, I would also like to stop by the local florist and pick up a poinsettia plant for my mother. She is rather fond of them and it has become somewhat of a tradition.