there was no where for me to stay, but I stayed anyway
Everest nods at Caly's response, internalizing the offer with the sort of serious consideration most people reserve for strategic planning sessions or emergency protocols. He doesn’t smile outright, but his expression shifts—shoulders easing slightly, gaze lingering a moment longer on her rather than darting away like it’s been trained not to linger anywhere too long. Then, he rests a hand lightly on the bottle now in front of him, fingers aligning it parallel to the edge of the bar. A mental tick box appears somewhere in his mind and is quietly marked off.
"Thank you again, Calypso," he says, voice clipped but warm. "You made this easier than I thought it would be."
He steps back then, adjusting the collar of his shirt like it’s suddenly too warm before giving a brief, awkward wave—just the fingers, nothing so bold as a full hand—and turns to leave with the wine held carefully in both hands, like he’s carrying something fragile. Because he is.
~FIN
"Thank you again, Calypso," he says, voice clipped but warm. "You made this easier than I thought it would be."
He steps back then, adjusting the collar of his shirt like it’s suddenly too warm before giving a brief, awkward wave—just the fingers, nothing so bold as a full hand—and turns to leave with the wine held carefully in both hands, like he’s carrying something fragile. Because he is.
~FIN
everest
