Getting the door is a wise idea, since he can only manage so much at once, but he does seem to be moving much easier. "Not long. And I was enjoying the morning view. Breakfast out of doors sounds absolutely lovely!" He's been up long enough to bathe and dress and make tea, but not much longer, and he's comfortable taking his morning at a leisurely pace. His mood is lighter and he seems more cheerful than he has even since they first met, in the woods. A weight has been lifted. The aglaophotis feels like a less urgent need, now, as if the journey and the rest here have already washed away what he sought the herb to rid himself of.
"And I believe in women they refer to the biological clock..." He sets the basket carefully on the counter, and lifts out the jars of milk to set them upright. That she has a partner, he's gained hints of already, but now that it's confirmed he's reviewing all her affectionate touches in a more certain light. It's more reassuring than disappointing, in its way, but a little of both. He does keep those thoughts to himself. "I suppose I've never been the family type. I'm always at a loss, around children. And my own experiences with anything that could be called family... haven't turned out well." He's quick to wave away that line of conversation, though. It's too depressing for a beautiful morning. "I've left my tea out on the porch..." Yesterday, that would have been an inconvenience he'd apologize for. This morning, he's off on the crutches before he's even finished the sentence, and back shortly with the empty cup, ready to refill it once she's poured her own.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2015-02-08 03:59 pm (UTC)"And I believe in women they refer to the biological clock..." He sets the basket carefully on the counter, and lifts out the jars of milk to set them upright. That she has a partner, he's gained hints of already, but now that it's confirmed he's reviewing all her affectionate touches in a more certain light. It's more reassuring than disappointing, in its way, but a little of both. He does keep those thoughts to himself. "I suppose I've never been the family type. I'm always at a loss, around children. And my own experiences with anything that could be called family... haven't turned out well." He's quick to wave away that line of conversation, though. It's too depressing for a beautiful morning. "I've left my tea out on the porch..." Yesterday, that would have been an inconvenience he'd apologize for. This morning, he's off on the crutches before he's even finished the sentence, and back shortly with the empty cup, ready to refill it once she's poured her own.