Re: [Tea: Daniel/Claire]
Claire laughed at his little act, muttered a 'not hardly' during his pause after 'innocent', and gave him a fond shake of her head when he finally came in. "You really don't manage well at that, do you?" she teased as she shut the door behind him, then returned their usual greeting as carefully as she could. Close without touching. Until there was. His finger hit her chin and her heart stopped dead in that second. The fact that she could feel her pulse skip meant he could hear it, and wasn't that moderately embarrassing? There would always be a flash of fear when someone touched her, even if it did nothing. But it said much more to her that he wasn't afraid of her any longer. She still remembered when he would flinch away from her. "It is a good thing that you are pretty, tesoro, or you would never get inside."
The Moscato d'Asti was light, hints of pineapple, apricot, orange blossom, and honeyed peaches that popped with every tiny delicate bubble that hit the surface inside the rainbow glass. Beyond the wine, Claire wore a different perfume than usual. Under her normal scent a sultry mix of cinnamon, almond, and jasmine still lurked on her skin even after a shower. She couldn't smell it on herself any longer, but her senses weren't as finely honed as his were.
What was she reading? "The Silmarillion?" She was done with the actual reading. Now she was in scholar mode when it came to Tolkien's works, examining certain events within and how they specifically came to lead the Fellowship on their journey to destroy the One Ring. "If Lord of the Rings is the New Testament, The Silmarillion would be Genesis." Because it was easiest for her to compare to the Bible. "NĂºmenor was an answer to one of the crossword clues, but I couldn't remember the name precisely so I looked it up. The ribbons match up to places that were mentioned in both." There was a slight motion to the narrow built-in bookcase near him. "I enjoyed The Hobbit better." With that she ducked through the doorway to the kitchen, and there was the tell-tale sign of running water and a gas stove clicking on before she came back out a few moments later.
Claire's bookshelf next to the fireplace was a sad little display, and it would seem that all of her interesting books were hidden elsewhere out of public view. There was the full collection of worn and well-loved Sherlock Holmes adventures that Steve had given her last year, a leather-bound copy of The Hobbit sat next to an empty spot where the books on the coffee table should have gone, some various religious paperbacks like The Book of Enoch or a treatise on the Dead Sea Scrolls (arranged alphabetically by title and split by the different religions), and perhaps most out of place was a copy of the infamous Fifty Shades of Grey.
If Daniel messed with the phone, there was no lock on it or anything, and Claire wouldn't stop him from poking around since she had nothing on there that she wasn't willing to share with him. Not that she expected him to mess around with the technology anyway. She sat down comfortably in the corner of one of the couches while she waited for the water to heat up in the kitchen, and offered him her glass for a taste of the Moscato if he wished, "Fizzante," she warned with a playful smirk. Her eyes flicked to the books he had with unabashed curiosity, "What did you bring with you?"