[ Bastien glances at Benedict's hands, his averted gaze. A Tevinter mage trying to downplay it to avoid bothering anyone—that's odd. Benedict's eagerness to please, that thinking I'm giving him what he wants—that's sad. Did they do it to him, with the dungeon stay? Is he still afraid of something worse? Or did he bring it with him from home?
And two lanky neurotic (thought most lovingly) quasi-hedonists in one office, both apparently incapable of just speaking straight with one another—that's disastrous, probably.
He picks up his spoon again, but only to fidget with, not to eat, and mainly to soften the force of his attentive focus, which can be a bit much for people who don't particularly want to be seen. ]
no subject
And two lanky neurotic (thought most lovingly) quasi-hedonists in one office, both apparently incapable of just speaking straight with one another—that's disastrous, probably.
He picks up his spoon again, but only to fidget with, not to eat, and mainly to soften the force of his attentive focus, which can be a bit much for people who don't particularly want to be seen. ]
Do you suppose he could be worried about you?