Re: [Tea: Daniel/Claire]
Perhaps it was the lack of accent in type that she found far more appealing than the reminder with each odd vowel of what had to be done to bring Daniel back. She always wondered if Daniel would have preferred the more lethal end. "You can change the screeching to whatever you wish. I can show you. And if you want music, I can help you with that, too." Offer extended whether accepted or not. "It never will sound the same, but it is much easier to carry around than a full orchestra." She held her hands out as though she were physically weighing the pros and cons of musical formatting in her scarred palms.
She scoffed with a laugh at his smirk, "You remember things that keep me from nosing around in your collections, if I remember the phrasing correctly?" A little sassy. Sassier than would be expected from Claire. It could have been blamed on wine, but the Moscato had a very, very low alcohol content. "Ah, yes. My poor education with Pietro d'Abano's Heptameron or the Liber Juratus. Romantic poetry must have been in my next year of study." A joke, but it struck a painful truth that were she not here she would never have gotten to experience this little snippet of life. Even with everything horrible that had happened within this town, these were the types of moments she knew to treasure. Her appreciation blossomed all that much more, battle calloused fingers roaming once again over the cover before she smiled up at Daniel with warmth and reached out to touch his forearm in gratitude. "Thank you. I am very grateful. I will be reading them as soon as you leave." Sometimes English was awkward. Sometimes it was just Claire.
A giggle when he waved the topic away, and she pretended to oblige the warning by putting the books down on the table with tender care. "Let me get the tea, and then you can decide if I am allowed to ask further about such a horrendous subject." She smirked a tease at him with a playful light in her eyes. Where he warned of explosives, Claire saw only bright and glorious fireworks. "I keep getting asked if I am in love with someone, and I have no idea what makes them think that," offered offhandedly for explanation as though Daniel would have no interest in gossip, while she disappeared through the doorway to the kitchen.
If he followed, the kitchen was pristine if somewhat dated. If not, Claire would be back in a moment with tea in a french press and two plain white coffee mugs in one hand, and the rest of the bottle of wine in the other.