[ the trickle of laughter that seems to leave Makoto of its own volition is... perplexing, to say the least. Abel doesn't quite understand, isn't quite in on the joke - but perhaps it's for the best, all things considered. if he knew just whose sentiments he had closely parroted...
ignorance is bliss, so the saying goes.
he shifts his weight as his company finally partakes of his drink, mimicking the demon and taking a tentative sip of his own as Abel raises the glass to his lips, cupped between both hands; it should be quite obvious he barely tastes it for the way his fixation remains on the Kenoma. the gears are turning, Abel permitting Makoto's question to ferment as he imbibes.
and by the time he's settled the glass back upon the tabletop, absently sliding the pad of his finger against the condensation beginning to bead... Abel's shoulders have briefly heaved with the weight of a silent sigh. his thoughts have been ordered as best they'll get, right now. he must shelf the question for now; all in all... if the only thing he can do right now is this? then... ]
Would you agree with them?
[ Abel once more scrutinizes the young man, expression schooled to give away little more than the priest's usual fare: a quiet concern. a gentility, all hard edges another might have in his place... softened. there is still no judgment or condemnation in his gaze, but perhaps there is that sharpness - something that makes one feel seen, inside. ]
...Would you answer me honestly if that's what I was to ask you next?
i had to use Brain Juice for this tag, pls forgive the delay 😔🧠⛔
ignorance is bliss, so the saying goes.
he shifts his weight as his company finally partakes of his drink, mimicking the demon and taking a tentative sip of his own as Abel raises the glass to his lips, cupped between both hands; it should be quite obvious he barely tastes it for the way his fixation remains on the Kenoma. the gears are turning, Abel permitting Makoto's question to ferment as he imbibes.
and by the time he's settled the glass back upon the tabletop, absently sliding the pad of his finger against the condensation beginning to bead... Abel's shoulders have briefly heaved with the weight of a silent sigh. his thoughts have been ordered as best they'll get, right now. he must shelf the question for now; all in all... if the only thing he can do right now is this? then... ]
Would you agree with them?
[ Abel once more scrutinizes the young man, expression schooled to give away little more than the priest's usual fare: a quiet concern. a gentility, all hard edges another might have in his place... softened. there is still no judgment or condemnation in his gaze, but perhaps there is that sharpness - something that makes one feel seen, inside. ]
...Would you answer me honestly if that's what I was to ask you next?
[ do you really believe you deserve it, Makoto? ]