#4o77th

“A-alright. I’ll trust you.”

Johnnie nervously runs his hands down his pants when he sits, clearly anxious about the outcome of everything.

“I’m sorry to have troubled you,” he begins. “I don’t need… that is, I don’t really go in for this sort of thing.” Endeavour at least has the good graces to be genuinely apologetic as he looks to @4o77th , but he finds his attention drawn back to the chancel almost immediately after, running his hands up and down the lengths of his thighs as if everything wrong could be remedied as easily as sweaty palms.

“…Not for want of trying, that is,” he finds himself continuing. “My mother took me quite often to her meeting house. Thought it would help, I suppose. ‘Still your mind,’ she’d say… never got the knack.” He’s quiet for a moment.

He swears he'd gone unnoticed, but the back door opens only a few moments afterwards. Immediately, he straightens, shoulders square and posture perfect as he turns to look at @4o77th.

odo has to smile. arms folded, brushing his chin thoughtfully with the knuckles of his fingers, it's a sentiment spoken aloud he might've once echoed. things have changed, since then. he watches as the youngling passes through the many soft voices that surround them and feels an ache, far into the depths of his being, that longs for something lost...

odo blinks. "father?" he ought not to be surprised, but even through amusement it seeps into an edge of his voice.