[Kyrie crosses to the kitchen and sets about preparing herself a cup of Earl Grey, fetching her preferred cup and going to the fridge to get a lemon. She slices a piece and puts it into the cup with the tea bag before getting the kettle pouring the water in.
The silence between them is not exactly comfortable, but it doesn't feel horrifically awkward. She considers that a mild improvement. Somehow she feels that chattering about inane things isn't exactly Vergil's forte, so she knows better than to try and fill the silence with small talk. There's four minutes of steeping time to kill, she wonders what to bring up. He then brings up their mutual favourite common interest and she smiles, shaking her head. Nero's fast asleep and she's inclined to leave him that way, they... well. They might have been to bed early last night but that doesn't mean they'd been early to sleep. She smiles, trying not to look too smitten by the memory of him curled up in the pillows.]
No, I didn't even try, to be honest. He looked so peaceful I thought I'd let him sleep in.
[Honestly, given that the weather's so lousy she has half a mind to climb back into bed and make a lazy morning of it, but she had a plan for the morning and she's loath to give up on it.]
I wanted to go and explore one of the farmer's markets and surprise him with breakfast, but it looks like the weather had other plans.
[As if to punctuate her disappointment, there's a brief flicker of lightning somewhere off in the distance, followed after a slight delay by a distant growl of thunder. Rain starts to rattle against the window pane and Kyrie sighs, cradling her cup in her hands and swirling the brewing tea around, watching it darken as the tea leaches out into the water.]
Never mind, I suppose I'll make do with what we have here and go later, maybe there'll be something good I could pick up for lunch.
[She looks across to give Vergil a bright, friendly smile and then happens to read the gilded words on the spine of his book.]
[Truth be told, Vergil doesn't think it will really matter to Nero where Kyrie manages to get her ingredients from. She could very well go picking through the trash and put it on a plate, and he would fall all over himself espousing praises to her name. He will be plenty pleased with a more ordinary breakfast just as he would be had she gone to the trouble of gathering fresh ingredients. He doesn't say any of this, however, because he understands enough that for Kyrie, there is a difference all the same in the amount of effort she puts into it. Making him breakfast each day is a simple, basic task. Getting the ingredients from the farmer's market while not making a difference necessarily to Nero, is something special for her perspective.]
[He hasn't the time to say anything about the matter of the farmer's market before her attention is on his book. Vergil's gaze moves from Kyrie down to the nearby book, and he would be lying if he did not feel an impulsive urge to draw it closer to himself. He tamps down on such a defensive response though.]
Yes, [he says, drawing his attention back up to Kyrie.] I have read it several times these past few weeks. It is not a particular favorite of mine, but Beatrice loved it and it had been a long time since I read it.
[He leaves it at that, not divulging anything further regarding his motivations for reading it.]
[Beatrice. That was Nero's mother's name, wasn't it? How strange that this book should have been one of her favorites.]
I used to love this when I was younger, my father and I would read it together.
[It's been such a long time since she read it, who would have thought that was something she had in common with Nero's mother? She remembers their old copy with the frayed ribbon attached to the book that served as a bookmark, the worn gilded lettering and patterns on the cover and the pretty marbled paper on the inside. It had been such fun to trace the patterns on cover's border while listening to her father read it, curled up on his lap on the big leather wingback chair in his study.
It's been a while since she'd thought of those times.]
I always found myself wondering if having a sister would be the same as it was in the book, or if it would be the same as having brother but a girl.
[...so much for steering away from inane conversation.]
It always made me cry though. When Beth dies. I couldn't imagine- well I suppose I can now.
[At the mention of her loss of Credo, Vergil averts his gaze back down to his food. If he hadn't already felt the urge to draw the novel closer to himself before... Well, he certainly feels a childish impulse to chuck it out of the room now. For as much as he enjoys discussions about literature, Kyrie takes a more personal approach. One that Vergil does not feel comfortable merely existing in the same room with, let alone venturing down as a point of conversation. Especially not given the last time they spoke of loss, hypothetical or otherwise.]
[Vergil doesn't trust his ability to find the right words to say in response, but he also knows prolonged silence is probably not helping matters either. So, he occupies it with a bite of breakfast followed by a sip of tea as a paltry excuse for having said nothing.]
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no subject
The silence between them is not exactly comfortable, but it doesn't feel horrifically awkward. She considers that a mild improvement. Somehow she feels that chattering about inane things isn't exactly Vergil's forte, so she knows better than to try and fill the silence with small talk. There's four minutes of steeping time to kill, she wonders what to bring up. He then brings up their mutual favourite common interest and she smiles, shaking her head. Nero's fast asleep and she's inclined to leave him that way, they... well. They might have been to bed early last night but that doesn't mean they'd been early to sleep. She smiles, trying not to look too smitten by the memory of him curled up in the pillows.]
No, I didn't even try, to be honest. He looked so peaceful I thought I'd let him sleep in.
[Honestly, given that the weather's so lousy she has half a mind to climb back into bed and make a lazy morning of it, but she had a plan for the morning and she's loath to give up on it.]
I wanted to go and explore one of the farmer's markets and surprise him with breakfast, but it looks like the weather had other plans.
[As if to punctuate her disappointment, there's a brief flicker of lightning somewhere off in the distance, followed after a slight delay by a distant growl of thunder. Rain starts to rattle against the window pane and Kyrie sighs, cradling her cup in her hands and swirling the brewing tea around, watching it darken as the tea leaches out into the water.]
Never mind, I suppose I'll make do with what we have here and go later, maybe there'll be something good I could pick up for lunch.
[She looks across to give Vergil a bright, friendly smile and then happens to read the gilded words on the spine of his book.]
Oh! You're reading Little Women?
no subject
[He hasn't the time to say anything about the matter of the farmer's market before her attention is on his book. Vergil's gaze moves from Kyrie down to the nearby book, and he would be lying if he did not feel an impulsive urge to draw it closer to himself. He tamps down on such a defensive response though.]
Yes, [he says, drawing his attention back up to Kyrie.] I have read it several times these past few weeks. It is not a particular favorite of mine, but Beatrice loved it and it had been a long time since I read it.
[He leaves it at that, not divulging anything further regarding his motivations for reading it.]
no subject
I used to love this when I was younger, my father and I would read it together.
[It's been such a long time since she read it, who would have thought that was something she had in common with Nero's mother? She remembers their old copy with the frayed ribbon attached to the book that served as a bookmark, the worn gilded lettering and patterns on the cover and the pretty marbled paper on the inside. It had been such fun to trace the patterns on cover's border while listening to her father read it, curled up on his lap on the big leather wingback chair in his study.
It's been a while since she'd thought of those times.]
I always found myself wondering if having a sister would be the same as it was in the book, or if it would be the same as having brother but a girl.
[...so much for steering away from inane conversation.]
It always made me cry though. When Beth dies. I couldn't imagine- well I suppose I can now.
no subject
[Vergil doesn't trust his ability to find the right words to say in response, but he also knows prolonged silence is probably not helping matters either. So, he occupies it with a bite of breakfast followed by a sip of tea as a paltry excuse for having said nothing.]