[ So she does recall. It's something he's been curious about—whether gold or silver makes a difference when she might never have seen either—but even he has the sliver of tact.
Still, something going unsaid doesn't make it unfelt; there's a moment where his thoughts grow muddled, melancholic and syrupy. (He's happy to inform her that she is, in fact, oh-so-green. But he'd much rather show her, if only...) He scrubs it over quickly as she departs back into her orb, leaving with the usual quip and not-so-usual note of approval. His response is a little huff of laughter, almost haughty. ]
If you'd be so kind.
[ He leans back a bit, centering her in his stupid finger-framed viewfinder, like he might be able to spot her in the orb's halftones if he observes vigorously enough. ]
no subject
Still, something going unsaid doesn't make it unfelt; there's a moment where his thoughts grow muddled, melancholic and syrupy. (He's happy to inform her that she is, in fact, oh-so-green. But he'd much rather show her, if only...) He scrubs it over quickly as she departs back into her orb, leaving with the usual quip and not-so-usual note of approval. His response is a little huff of laughter, almost haughty. ]
If you'd be so kind.
[ He leans back a bit, centering her in his stupid finger-framed viewfinder, like he might be able to spot her in the orb's halftones if he observes vigorously enough. ]
...I await your glowing critique, of course.