[It's a miserable-sounding murmur that's only half-muffled by his glass, and he resists the urge to sigh. Berna, he notes, has abandoned him in his time of need, and he sets his empty glass down to rake his fingers through his long hair in an effort to compose himself. Success is moderate, at best.]
That's—
[Well, he can't exactly correct her, not in public and certainly not while she's in this state. It's neither the place nor the time.]
[Oh, hey, Berna's here to the rescue (late). It is getting late and Oren's gathering up their empty plates and cups and putting them to the side. He's also taking care of their tab so Berna can concern herself with the other two.]
I thought you'd enjoy seeing her cut loose, but it seems like I've let it go on too long. C'mon Amy, we've kept him around long enough.
[Amelia grunts and drops her hand from Gale's head, burying her face into his shoulder instead.]
[It's rather defeated-sounding, but even with her in this state, he's too polite not to acknowledge her efforts to console him.
Truly, he's in deeper than he'd realized.
Berna's interception is a timely one, though he would have appreciated it at a few moments earlier— still, beggars can't be choosers, and he looks positively relieved even as he lets out a weary chuckle.]
I've seen her 'cut loose' before, but not like this, I'll admit.
[He's too proper to expand on that, but he'll let Berna make her own conclusions. Almost without realizing, his arm finds its way around Amelia's shoulders again as if to offer her consolation while she buries her face against him, and there's no denying the obvious softening of his gaze as he looks down at her.
It's been a strange, surreal sort of day, full of difficult emotions, but he thinks he rather likes where things have ended up, teasing and all.]
I think it's time for Berna and Oren to get you safely home, Professor. It's been a long day, for you especially.
[She rubs her face a few more times for good measure before suddenly tipping her head up to look straight into his eyes. Amelia's ever-changing expressions has now turned into something irate.]
[For a man who usually has no shortage of words, he certainly finds himself struggling with them tonight, especially with Amelia looking at him so defiantly— a reminder that he never truly wants to find himself on her bad side.]
Thank you for a lovely evening...?
[She can't possibly take offense to that, can she?]
Text to let me know you've made it back safely?
[He doesn't usually sound so uncertain about these things...]
His heart, for just a moment, lodges itself in his throat. His eyes widen with the surprise of hearing her say it so plainly, and the way he feels his stomach twist in response only reaffirms his suspicions of what it is he wants, if only he'll allow himself to want it.
But not tonight, and not like this. He smiles and gently takes hold of her upper arm to give it an affectionate squeeze as Berna pulls her away, letting out a breath he hadn't quite realized he'd been holding.]
We'll talk tomorrow— I promise.
[Perhaps when she's through nursing the headache he's almost certain she's going to have, come tomorrow morning.
Collecting himself, he looks to Berna and Oren as they collect their things and prepare to make their exit— it's probably best for Amelia's dignity that they all leave quickly, at this point.]
Thank you to the two of you, as well. It was a pleasure to finally be able to talk to the both of you at length— we'll have to do this again before long.
[He gathers up Amelia's purse and jacket for her as Berna does her best to keep her pointed in the right direction, and once they have her safely in the car to return home, he'll begin to make his way back to his Sea Ward apartment, that whisper of hers lingering in his ear.]
It's not unusual in the least for her to be on his mind, and at last, he feels as though he can be honest with himself about it. He's long since shed his jacket and sweater, made himself tea and gone through the motions of trying to read or review his lesson plans for the following week or even watch television with little to no success, unable to focus on any one thing for long.
Instead, he finds himself sipping at his tea and continually pulling up their ongoing thread of messages on his phone to stare at it, contemplating.
It is, he's almost certain, a phenomenally bad idea— but his own dalliance with soju has impaired his judgment, perhaps, and the impulse to be honest wins out.]
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[It's a miserable-sounding murmur that's only half-muffled by his glass, and he resists the urge to sigh. Berna, he notes, has abandoned him in his time of need, and he sets his empty glass down to rake his fingers through his long hair in an effort to compose himself. Success is moderate, at best.]
That's—
[Well, he can't exactly correct her, not in public and certainly not while she's in this state. It's neither the place nor the time.]
... ahem. Precisely it, yes.
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See? Was that so hard? There, there. Good boy.
[Is she comforting him? Encouraging him?? Who knows, she's drunk.]
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[Oh, hey, Berna's here to the rescue (late). It is getting late and Oren's gathering up their empty plates and cups and putting them to the side. He's also taking care of their tab so Berna can concern herself with the other two.]
I thought you'd enjoy seeing her cut loose, but it seems like I've let it go on too long. C'mon Amy, we've kept him around long enough.
[Amelia grunts and drops her hand from Gale's head, burying her face into his shoulder instead.]
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[It's rather defeated-sounding, but even with her in this state, he's too polite not to acknowledge her efforts to console him.
Truly, he's in deeper than he'd realized.
Berna's interception is a timely one, though he would have appreciated it at a few moments earlier— still, beggars can't be choosers, and he looks positively relieved even as he lets out a weary chuckle.]
I've seen her 'cut loose' before, but not like this, I'll admit.
[He's too proper to expand on that, but he'll let Berna make her own conclusions. Almost without realizing, his arm finds its way around Amelia's shoulders again as if to offer her consolation while she buries her face against him, and there's no denying the obvious softening of his gaze as he looks down at her.
It's been a strange, surreal sort of day, full of difficult emotions, but he thinks he rather likes where things have ended up, teasing and all.]
I think it's time for Berna and Oren to get you safely home, Professor. It's been a long day, for you especially.
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[She rubs her face a few more times for good measure before suddenly tipping her head up to look straight into his eyes. Amelia's ever-changing expressions has now turned into something irate.]
Well?
Aren't you supposed to say something else?
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[For a man who usually has no shortage of words, he certainly finds himself struggling with them tonight, especially with Amelia looking at him so defiantly— a reminder that he never truly wants to find himself on her bad side.]
Thank you for a lovely evening...?
[She can't possibly take offense to that, can she?]
Text to let me know you've made it back safely?
[He doesn't usually sound so uncertain about these things...]
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... You were almost, almost there. But I wanted something else. Something like... Like...
[Pausing.]
Like...
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"I'd rather take you home tonight..."
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[And cue Berna gently, but firmly tugging Amelia away by her shoulders and making her stand up, all the while smiling.
Yeah, that's enough for now.]
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His heart, for just a moment, lodges itself in his throat. His eyes widen with the surprise of hearing her say it so plainly, and the way he feels his stomach twist in response only reaffirms his suspicions of what it is he wants, if only he'll allow himself to want it.
But not tonight, and not like this. He smiles and gently takes hold of her upper arm to give it an affectionate squeeze as Berna pulls her away, letting out a breath he hadn't quite realized he'd been holding.]
We'll talk tomorrow— I promise.
[Perhaps when she's through nursing the headache he's almost certain she's going to have, come tomorrow morning.
Collecting himself, he looks to Berna and Oren as they collect their things and prepare to make their exit— it's probably best for Amelia's dignity that they all leave quickly, at this point.]
Thank you to the two of you, as well. It was a pleasure to finally be able to talk to the both of you at length— we'll have to do this again before long.
[He gathers up Amelia's purse and jacket for her as Berna does her best to keep her pointed in the right direction, and once they have her safely in the car to return home, he'll begin to make his way back to his Sea Ward apartment, that whisper of hers lingering in his ear.]
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It's not unusual in the least for her to be on his mind, and at last, he feels as though he can be honest with himself about it. He's long since shed his jacket and sweater, made himself tea and gone through the motions of trying to read or review his lesson plans for the following week or even watch television with little to no success, unable to focus on any one thing for long.
Instead, he finds himself sipping at his tea and continually pulling up their ongoing thread of messages on his phone to stare at it, contemplating.
It is, he's almost certain, a phenomenally bad idea— but his own dalliance with soju has impaired his judgment, perhaps, and the impulse to be honest wins out.]
I did want to take you home tonight.