[What a great routine they fell into that's mostly his own fault. He leans back abruptly with an indignant noise, raising a hand to nurse his face. After a moment he reconsiders and raises the wine bottle to press against his cheek instead; it's cooler, at least.]
Amira— [He starts, and then stops and looks Elsewhere with a sigh. Don't make him... talk about it.]
Look, forget about it, alright? It's not a problem anymore.
no subject
Amira— [He starts, and then stops and looks Elsewhere with a sigh. Don't make him... talk about it.]
Look, forget about it, alright? It's not a problem anymore.