#waugh....

the barrow takes care of its own, like a mother soothing her child. it's why it unstuck the roof access door for the two of them (she cares about safety, of course). it's quite nice to get some fresh air, mark shrugging off his overcoat to cool down against the humidity. cyn has the blanket from the back room underneath her like it's some beach picnic instead of what it actually is. it's not that mark doesn't enjoy it here. it's just that he feels bad about it not being an actual date (most of their trips have been work-related, you know, and cyn certainly deserves something more than that).

still, this is the best he can do with little-to-no planning. he can certainly bring her the finest wine and hope for the best. as mark pours her a glass, he watches with a gentle eye as she pops an edible. they've never been much his thing. it messes with him too much, makes him anxious and uncomfortable (not that he doesn't feel those feelings anyway). more for her, he thinks, gently handing her the glass. it's quiet and it's lovely.