Hadama sipped at the minty freshness of his mojito, patient and willing to give Maea as much time as she needed to find the words to begin. Although he could have guessed what brought her to Torchline today to sit in the rain and punish herself, any assumptions would have been just that: jumping to conclusions. It was better to wait and be certain rather then pressuring a friend into a conversation they were not yet ready to have.
Still, the gratitude that came next was not entirely unexpected. Hadama dipped his head in acceptance of her thanks, and when he raised his head again it was to meet her eyes with steadfast calm. "You are welcome." He had not wanted to watch her die. He had made that realization and moved, slow and deliberate, to place himself in danger at her side.
All the rest that had come from that choice was now something they both had to live with.
And though he wanted to offer her an avenue of escape in their conversation, he could sense that there was more to come. The meeting itself... hung between them, the white whale in the room, but he would not force how and when Maea chose to address it.
Still, the gratitude that came next was not entirely unexpected. Hadama dipped his head in acceptance of her thanks, and when he raised his head again it was to meet her eyes with steadfast calm. "You are welcome." He had not wanted to watch her die. He had made that realization and moved, slow and deliberate, to place himself in danger at her side.
All the rest that had come from that choice was now something they both had to live with.
And though he wanted to offer her an avenue of escape in their conversation, he could sense that there was more to come. The meeting itself... hung between them, the white whale in the room, but he would not force how and when Maea chose to address it.
