[ Adra's natural empathy is killing him right now. Even an oblivious fool could mark the strange, palpable energy between Gil and Saber, and Adra is neither oblivious nor a fool. He feels exhausted, observing Gil's jealousy, his boyish enthusiasm, and--by contrast--Saber's cold, murderous fury. He really doesn't want a damn thing to do with any of it.
He looks after Saber as she goes, sighing. A headache's forming between his temples.
When Gil demands his hand, he wants to snap, 'Why the hell should I?', given the attitude Gil's putting on him, but--Gil needs mana, doesn't he. It's a matter of business. Fine. ]
Just for a minute.
[ He takes Gil's hand loosely in his. He stares straight ahead, frowning, his eyes dark. ]
no subject
He looks after Saber as she goes, sighing. A headache's forming between his temples.
When Gil demands his hand, he wants to snap, 'Why the hell should I?', given the attitude Gil's putting on him, but--Gil needs mana, doesn't he. It's a matter of business. Fine. ]
Just for a minute.
[ He takes Gil's hand loosely in his. He stares straight ahead, frowning, his eyes dark. ]
You're ridiculous, by the way.