[Conversation over dinner is light and animated and natural, the way it's so often been when they've enjoyed lunch or coffee together, but now there's no longer anything hidden between them, no invasive thoughts Gale finds himself having to try and talk himself out of. He welcomes Amelia's help with dishes, which go rather quickly given it was just the two of them, and he catches her with a chaste kiss in parting when she leaves to go get cleaned up.
He spends the next part of the evening getting his things together for the next day; the list is short, but he knows himself well enough to know how absent-minded he can be when he's in a hurry, and it's in his best interest to make the next morning as smooth for himself as possible. Presentation materials are where they belong in his bag, clothes are laid out, and when he's satisfied, he goes to put water on for tea.
It's only once he does so that he realizes Amelia has not yet returned— had she dozed off after getting cleaned up? Entirely possible, he reasons, it had been a long and eventful day, though pleasantly so. He approaches the closed door to her bedroom and prepares to knock, pausing with his hand mid-air as he hears shuffling from the other side.
Perhaps he should leave her be? It would be entirely reasonable if she wanted some time to herself after the last 24 hours they'd had, but he won't pretend that he knows what that feels like— even before dinner, it had been all he could do to keep himself from succumbing to the urge to take hold of her by the waist and kiss her breathless, to let the world around them fall away once again now that all pretense had been discarded.
He draws in a breath and lightly raps his knuckles against the door at last.]
no subject
He spends the next part of the evening getting his things together for the next day; the list is short, but he knows himself well enough to know how absent-minded he can be when he's in a hurry, and it's in his best interest to make the next morning as smooth for himself as possible. Presentation materials are where they belong in his bag, clothes are laid out, and when he's satisfied, he goes to put water on for tea.
It's only once he does so that he realizes Amelia has not yet returned— had she dozed off after getting cleaned up? Entirely possible, he reasons, it had been a long and eventful day, though pleasantly so. He approaches the closed door to her bedroom and prepares to knock, pausing with his hand mid-air as he hears shuffling from the other side.
Perhaps he should leave her be? It would be entirely reasonable if she wanted some time to herself after the last 24 hours they'd had, but he won't pretend that he knows what that feels like— even before dinner, it had been all he could do to keep himself from succumbing to the urge to take hold of her by the waist and kiss her breathless, to let the world around them fall away once again now that all pretense had been discarded.
He draws in a breath and lightly raps his knuckles against the door at last.]
Amelia? I'm making tea, if you're interested.