a thousand faces staring at me, a thousand times i've fallen
Glas keeps his head ducked as he listens to Loren, chewing on the inside of his lower lip now, shoulders slightly hunched as he nods ever so slightly to ensure that Loren knows he’s listening, even if he’s not making the eye contact with the summoner. “Okay.” He agrees quietly, figuring that if he can’t hide it, he might be able to take things from it to add to the bag back home. And so he takes it, cradling it gently in his hands, still not making eye contact with Loren but focusing instead on the bag in his hands as something else to somewhat fiddle with.
But the happiness with which Loren offers when Glas takes him up on the offer of tea, has him slightly startled, heart thundering in his chest as he moves to the designated table to sit and keep the bag in his hands, something else to focus on and fiddle with. He finally takes a moment to look at Loren when the man’s back is turned, cheeks reddening a small amount under the idea of what kind of tea he likes. “Which… Whichever you prefer is fine.” He almost says sir again, but cuts himself off, pausing to work on his lip again and focus on the grains of the table for something to do when Loren looks back.
The question Loren asks is met with a bit of surprise. And he’s really not sure how to answer that. “I- Nobody’s asked me that before.” He says quietly but loud enough for Loren to hear, heart thundering further in his chest and the anxiety eating at his stomach. “I’m not sure… How to respond to that? What – what do you want to know?” His words jumble together a bit, but he hopes it gets across.
But the happiness with which Loren offers when Glas takes him up on the offer of tea, has him slightly startled, heart thundering in his chest as he moves to the designated table to sit and keep the bag in his hands, something else to focus on and fiddle with. He finally takes a moment to look at Loren when the man’s back is turned, cheeks reddening a small amount under the idea of what kind of tea he likes. “Which… Whichever you prefer is fine.” He almost says sir again, but cuts himself off, pausing to work on his lip again and focus on the grains of the table for something to do when Loren looks back.
The question Loren asks is met with a bit of surprise. And he’s really not sure how to answer that. “I- Nobody’s asked me that before.” He says quietly but loud enough for Loren to hear, heart thundering further in his chest and the anxiety eating at his stomach. “I’m not sure… How to respond to that? What – what do you want to know?” His words jumble together a bit, but he hopes it gets across.
a thousand voices dead at my feet
GLAS
