Unfortunately, by having presented himself as an authority, Quentin is now
being taken at his word. This means that every day from now on, Credence
will consider himself a little more abnormal for never having so much as
held hands with a girl.
"...how? You're - you know so much more than me."
For Credence, the problem is in appreciating that their age difference is
less than that between, say, Modesty and himself.
Points out Quentin- for example, things like this. Though he hasn't realized his well-meaning reassurance was taken in the exact opposite spirit of which it was intended.
"In a lot of ways I think you're a lot more grounded than me."
"Clothes," Credence agrees. "You'll - show me how to pay for the cocoa?"
He still, despite everything, can't believe that this little card could be
money. The best he can imagine is that it's like a check you can use more
than once.
There's a light snowfall when they go outside, white crystals falling from
a perfectly white sky. Credence turns his face up into it for a moment,
closing his eyes.
"I haven't seen snow since I was home," he murmurs.
There's snow on the deck of the Barge occasionally, but that
feels...strange, inauthentic, in a way that's completely apart from being
able to feel the ground beneath his feet and the snow on his face. Not for
the first time, he feels something like - not homesickness, exactly, but
close.
"I think there was a shop up here that had some sweaters in the window."
He says, turning left. Credence looks cold all the time, could probably benefit from being swathed in a winter knit. Much better than those stiff coats of his.
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magician_king) wrote2020-01-12 01:19 pm
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That sounds like a reasonable compromise. Whatever happens, he doesn't want to do wrong by Shiro by being ignorant or unkind without even meaning to.
"...thank you." He sips his cocoa. "Ma - never even let me talk to girls about the Society."
Maybe thinking she could force his bloodline to end with him, he's wondering, more.
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He blinks, and sits up, realizing;
"I forget I'm older than you."
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Unfortunately, by having presented himself as an authority, Quentin is now being taken at his word. This means that every day from now on, Credence will consider himself a little more abnormal for never having so much as held hands with a girl.
"...how? You're - you know so much more than me."
For Credence, the problem is in appreciating that their age difference is less than that between, say, Modesty and himself.
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Points out Quentin- for example, things like this. Though he hasn't realized his well-meaning reassurance was taken in the exact opposite spirit of which it was intended.
"In a lot of ways I think you're a lot more grounded than me."
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"Really?"
Cue total bewilderment.
"....why?"
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He admits, with a hasty sip of his drink.
"I feel really weird lately."
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"Why?" If he can hear people, surely he has a responsibility to ask, to listen. "Has something happened, what's wrong?"
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He promises, with a reassuring smile.
"Maybe just Christmas doldrums."
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"Oh." Beat. "...You're sick?"
He does not know what a doldrum is.
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He explains, taking a last deep drink of his cocoa.
"I'll be okay. It's good to be out with a project today."
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Credence nods, and hurriedly finishes his own even though he has much more left. He'll regret it later.
"If there's anything I can do to help, I - I'll try," he says, not confident enough to offer anything more definitive.
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He promises, with a small smile.
"But it is really nice of you. It's good to have friends here."
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And for that, Quentin gets the tiniest imaginable, but noticeable and genuine smile.
"Yes, it's good to have friends."
At all. In general.
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"Clothes," Credence agrees. "You'll - show me how to pay for the cocoa?"
He still, despite everything, can't believe that this little card could be money. The best he can imagine is that it's like a check you can use more than once.
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He says, smiling- and leads him to the front to help him learn how the chip-and-pin works. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be a code required.
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It might as well be magic.
There's a light snowfall when they go outside, white crystals falling from a perfectly white sky. Credence turns his face up into it for a moment, closing his eyes.
"I haven't seen snow since I was home," he murmurs.
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He admits, closing his eyes and turning his face up to the sky, letting himself smile a little.
"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?"
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"Yes."
There's snow on the deck of the Barge occasionally, but that feels...strange, inauthentic, in a way that's completely apart from being able to feel the ground beneath his feet and the snow on his face. Not for the first time, he feels something like - not homesickness, exactly, but close.
"...where should we start?"
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He says, turning left. Credence looks cold all the time, could probably benefit from being swathed in a winter knit. Much better than those stiff coats of his.
"They might have more besides."