"Thank you," he said quietly. And when she leaned on him, the surprise mingled with something like relief, something like longing. And when she pat his leg, he followed her hand as it pulled away, thoughts drifting unspoken through his gaze. She was so easy with affection. It wasn't what he was used to, but times had clearly changed. What was far too familiar in polite company now seemed simply commonplace. Or perhaps that was only Fred.
No... No, Enig... He swallowed and winced and did not finish the thought, instead straightening and sitting back on the couch again. "To be honest," he said, seizing on the topic she threw in front of them, "I've been too busy to eat more often than I should like to admit. The last few weeks, I've been working hard on a production of sorts for Caritas."
He didn't tell her that he'd been trying to forget what he'd seen at the opera, trying to forget the obvious intimacy between the star and that tall, dark, strong man she'd been dancing with. The way they talked. The way they... He winced again and shook his head.
"I look up and it's 10:30 at night, and I could have sworn it'd been daytime the moment before." He tried laughing, but the sound didn't make it past his throat. Instead, he sucked in a breath. "What about you?"