ring_for_giles | Come Sail Away Inbox

Thank you, Sharky, I may well take you up on that. It does me no good to remain isolated, no matter how much easier it may seem.

[ Giles stops for a moment, feline eyes boring into Sharky for maybe just a hint longer than would be strictly comfortable before he smiles softly ]

I have missed the pleasure of your company.

When I have had the mind the mind to comprehend such things, that is

[Sharky knows first-hand how squirrelly things get when you're alone too long, and as nice as the cottage is, it's still essentially a very fancy doomsday bunker. Limited space, resources, and very little socialization to go around -- it's the perfect recipe for going lightly nuts.

The stare and comment earn a sort of awkward, bashful grin, as he scrubs the back of his head. He -- really wants to say the same thing. It'd be really easy to do, just, "yeah, me too," and see what happens. He could probably handle it. He'd probably even like it.

But the grin falters and he sorta just. Bobs his head.]

Y-yeah. Um. [Now it's his laugh that's awkward, like admitting a guilty secret.] Not gonna lie, man, I think somethin' got like. Hella broke coming back 'cos I'm. Just. Not... feeling it. With anyone. At all. [That feels terrible to admit. It feels... gross, not being horned up all the time. Which is weird. It should be the other way around, right?] I was literally sitting across from Crichton the hot tub, and I got more sauced over his fuckin' future guns than [mimes out the shapeliest of butts] and it's like. WHAT. The fuck. Is wrong with me.

[ Giles raises his hands just slightly from his lap, somewhere between defensive and placating. ]

No, no I understand. I didn't- [ frowns, hums, starts again ] I am in much the same place at the moment, I must admit. I meant nothing more than this, that I have missed your presence and conversation.

[ Because there have been plenty instances where they've talked and existed in eachother's company without it going anywhere. Like after the island, and...
Well, maybe that was it, but that's hardly the point here. And it's also not something Giles is going to think too hard about. ]

[He huffs a much more relieved laugh, slumping into his seat.] Sick, okay. Uh, not that it's a good thing, but -- ugh. You know what I mean.

[It was probably kind of a dick move to assume Giles was putting the moves on him, now that he thinks about it, but that's sorta how it normally goes, right? Texting is for hanging out, hanging out is for everything else.]

TBH, I feel the same way tho. Like. Not to be all mushy or whatever but it sucks not texting you all the time and stuff. I basically think of you whenever I think about letters and fire, and, uhh, I sorta think about fire a lot.

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