Re: BBQ: Damian, Leena, Misha & Sadie
In a green expanse of field and grassy knolls, space spanning between the road and the house Misha and Damian inhabited whilst in Repose, the foursome met. The house was behind Damian and Misha, closer to the cling of the shore, with a dock that spindled out over glassy water like a reaching hand toward nothingness. Damian was still very private about the space, and he had not offered it on a whim. No one else, as of yet, knew the location of this abode. But, he had allowed Sadie and Leena, on the condition that they kept to the land just outside, under canopy of gray-bellied sky instead. It was not a cold day, only brisk, the wind light as it rolled off the lake.
Misha's hand was in Damian's, or Damian's was in Misha's—he did not know how one could tell such—and they walked, knotted together by this grip, toward where the silhouettes of the women picked out in black against the field. Damian was not thinking upon Dawson. He was not thinking up being left over and over. He was not thinking upon enjoying being in groups. He was thinking upon nothing except the vessels of beverages he had in the backpack he had over his shoulders, along with four glasses stacked with tissue paper to cushion them. Then, his mind shifted from this to Leena, who appeared, if nothing else, happy, and then from there to Sadie. Damian had been with Misha long enough now that the woman's odd sartorial choices did not so much as blip his radar.
Damian himself was dressed sedately, if in better quality clothing than he normally opted for. The navy made his own eyes look darker than they were, green reflection, and his hair was now longer on top than either of the women had seen it in sometime, with curls piled. Misha and Sadie embraced. Damian smiled at his sister, and then, if Sadie came forward to embrace him, he did this, his arm and back stiff, but his chin on her shoulder. "Hello," he said, taking Misha's hand when it swung back to him. "Has a blanket been brought, or shall we sit?"