thedispatch | (no subject)

[ Grell's face falls with a snicker. ]

Fine, fine. I suppose I'll learn how to live as I am.

[ Peeking over her glasses at him, she tilts her head. ]

What are you most looking forward to?

Even if you aren't as you wish, I think a bit of confidence with how you are now would help you feel stronger.

[ A bit of vague wording, should anyone be close enough to hear. ]

I would agree with you on art. The architecture, as well. There are so many beautiful churches that would be wonderful to visit.

[ A contemplative, although somewhat unsure hum follows; however, to his latter input, she shoots him an amused little look. ]

Churches, you say?

Notre Dame, of course. La Sainte-Chapelle is another. I've read descriptions of her breathtaking stained glass windows. It would be nice to take in the sight, myself.

[ Ah, perhaps William is a bit of a romantic deep at heart! ]

[ Such has her eyes softening. ]

And so you shall.

[ Sitting up with a roll of her shoulders, Grell sighs tiredly. ]

We might as well take in all that we can as we search for a place to settle, in any case.

[ A firm nod of agreement. ]

Keep in mind, we may have to settle with something less than desirable, at first.

[ Lips quirking as she dreads what such conditions could be, she glances about before muttering to him. ]

Well, though I might complain, know that I am content so long as we're together.

I don't want to hear any complaints, then.

[ It's unclear whether he's teasing or scolding, as his voice is so monotone. But there's no frown on his face, so that's saying something. ]

I can't promise you that.

[ In contrast, she quirks a brow with a playful little smirk! ]

[ He gives her a side-eye look, his gaze much colder than usual. ]

That timid side of yours seems to be fading away rather quickly, as of late.

[ That expression causes that confidence to visibly falter, however; she sinks in her seat, shoulders raised, face saddened. ]

You don't like it.

[ He looks to her, a frown now on his face. ]

I did not say that. I am glad you're gaining confidence.

[ That has her easing, though she still looks weary. And confused! ]

Then... what's wrong?

You sound as though you may become a bit rebellious.

[ He gives a small shrug. ]

I suppose that isn't entirely a bad thing, but I do like your shy side quite a bit.

[ The mere idea that she could even be rebellious has the redhead's brows ticking upward in surprise - and the latter has her lowering her face just so, in an effort to conceal her flush. ]

Well... fortunately for you, then, I don't think I ever could have it in me to be so forward.

[ Pushing her plate forward enough to fold her arms along the bar, she lets out a breathy sigh. ]

I'm tired, and yet-- [ She mutters quite low. ] I don't know that I'm prepared to sleep without you.

I will be a room away.

[ He would take her hand in this moment, but unfortunately that can't be done in this setting. ]

Things will be fine, I promise you that.

Edited 2020-03-01 06:46 (UTC)

[ There's a longing quality to the way she gazes into his eyes, and yet, she offers a short nod. ]

Yes, it's just-- well, I'm certain you feel it, too.

You're fearful?

[ His brow creases, worried as to whether he really is able to read his lover so well. ]

Or is it something else?

[ Her brow creases as well, although it's accompanied by a lopsided little smile. ]

The dread of sleeping apart. It hasn't been so since Christmas Eve.

It was this way for months leading up to that night. I don't wish to be alone this evening, either, but it will just be one night.

[ He's trying to be reassuring. He just hopes he doesn't sound as though he's mocking her desire to stay beside him. ]

It isn't being alone, but rather, without your company.

[ The redhead mutters. Her eyes have drifted away sadly, for she thinks he might not feel the same, judging by his words. ]

Might as well, then, I suppose.

[ Sliding down from the stool, she makes eye contact with the barkeep while setting coin on the counter for their meal. ]

Fare well until the morning, William.

[ William gives a short sigh as he watches her exit the bar to head for her room. For once, he really wishes he weren't so unattached from deeper emotions. Refocusing on his plate, he finishes up til there's nothing left, apparently quite hungry after those few hours of restless sleep.

The first hour of time spent in his room is just the same - rolling from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position that he may forget all the thoughts of the past two days for a few hours. Another passes with him seated by the drawn curtains of the room, attempting to figure out just what their plan should be next. But there isn't much more to contemplate other than reaching the shore and boarding a ferry across. With a huff of frustration, William finally decides there's only one other thing he can do.

The door creaks rather loudly as he opens it and William curses at is under his breath. Then it seems each worn board of the floor must echo the sound. When he finally reaches the door to what he's fairly certain is the one Grell's taken up, he pauses, glancing down both ends of the hall to make sure no one's peeked out to see what all the creaking is. There's the quietest tap at her door. ]

[ After a moment of rustling, Grell's footsteps cautiously approach the door. She hesitates before unlatching the locks, barely cracking the door open to peek out - but once her one hazel eyes takes in the sight of William, she visibly relaxes and opens the door just enough for him to pass.

Locking the door after him, she sets her sword down against the wall beside it. ]

Is everything alright?

[ Still, she speaks in hushed tones. Their voices carrying at this hour would be just as suspicious. ]

You were right.

[ He speaks just as softly and takes Grell's hand. She's pulled along to the bed where he gently climbs beneath the blankets. ]

[ Worry drains away as soon as he takes her hand. Features softening, she follows, climbing in after him and cozying up to his side. ]

I'm glad you came. It's awful, being exhausted but incapable of sleeping.