He wanted to argue. He really, truly, earnestly did. But as it had seemed several times in the past, Zelda was good at making him hold his tongue. And most of the time, it was because what he was trying to create with her was something so important to him (surprisingly) that he had no want to destroy it so soon. Or ever, if he was going to at least be honest with himself about it.
Soryk was quick to rise to his feet and wander back off toward her bathroom where he tried to put himself together. Sure, the vomit was an issue. Likely unforgettable, but was that really such a bad thing? He'd have to take the boots to a proper cleaner for he doubted he had such an interest in touching just such a thing. It wasn't like he didn't have some coin on him, after all.
Perhaps Zelda would be mortified about it forever, something he couldn't fault her for, though she hadn't really done anything wrong. Or again, anything he didn't feel he deserved. Things were what they were, however. No use in weeping over offered vomit.
When he returned, he extended a slightly over half full glass. "What else may I get for you?" Food. Drink. A pillow. She would know what she wanted or needed more than he would have.
no subject
Soryk was quick to rise to his feet and wander back off toward her bathroom where he tried to put himself together. Sure, the vomit was an issue. Likely unforgettable, but was that really such a bad thing? He'd have to take the boots to a proper cleaner for he doubted he had such an interest in touching just such a thing. It wasn't like he didn't have some coin on him, after all.
Perhaps Zelda would be mortified about it forever, something he couldn't fault her for, though she hadn't really done anything wrong. Or again, anything he didn't feel he deserved. Things were what they were, however. No use in weeping over offered vomit.
When he returned, he extended a slightly over half full glass. "What else may I get for you?" Food. Drink. A pillow. She would know what she wanted or needed more than he would have.