she watches her comment grow in his mind. first only responded to, and then flourishing with the anecdote that comes along with it. it’s been so long since she’s heard mention of family, how they could still be in the present tense, that they could contribute to different parts of his life. cal has a mother, and she’s still alive. something about it warms her heart, she takes another sip of champagne to disguise the feeling with something more substantive. there was no use in expanding on such thoughts here, the last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself by tearing up in front of the ophelia, so she smiles back at him, she only wants to say that she’ll teach him, that she can show his mother, and it is the only thing that she cannot say.
“it’s probably better that way.” she sighed, looking upon the wretch in her melodious lay. it wasn’t that she was particularly well educated on the topic, but axe always had a way to make sure she understood the messages that were being conveyed. she was merely the editor of them, hardly the first step towards creation. “i’m no shakespeare scholar.” the end of her academic studies had been weighted down with course credits for the time she spent at the axed! offices, a supplement for her education given in hard work and the learning experiences of her own life. could she say that she had missed out on anything, she doesn’t think so, she doesn’t know. “but happy endings don’t feature in a lot of them.” even her juliet, lay dead next to the boy she loved.
“sorry, hardly a topic a hostess should bring up.” the self deprecation rings hollow to her, but she doesn’t know how to navigate back to safer ground before she says something that she shouldn’t, hints at something that she has to take back. “we’re just here for the art.”
He's always been a light of optimism, a pure embodiment of ignorance being blissful. Her spoken thoughts roll around in his mind, keeping the skull company until they're churned into something brighter, shinier, glistening in the eyes in contrast to the clouds that occupied hers. "Shouldn't bother finishing any of them, eh?" That was fine by him. No happy endings? Couldn't be anything of interest to him, and yet he's still pleased to continue on if that was to stay as the topic for the night, would find a way to enliven it, to drum up some spark for her. "Will put my hands up," he swayed in her direction, voice lowered as if some secret was being conveyed. "Haven't much started on one. Only caught up in the middle of a few whilst in class. All Greek to me."
But Emma's apology turns his head further in her direction, no longer a profile, but a direct stare. His smile is softer around the edges, but her words don't strike anything more than that, rebounds with her second half. "Course we are," he plays along, well-pleased. "Could have an eyeful of it all night, I could," he adds, quick wink that can be swallowed up by anyone's eyes from his champagne glass. "Nothing to be sorry for. Can bring up anything you like, won't scare me off, not a bit." Hopes to get a grin out of her, the goal of the night, keeps an eye out for it as he goes on. "Might even have me running to you."