When Gingerbread offers him a moment's distraction, Roland thinks carefully on Riza's words. To a man who spent the best years of his life learning to expect a threat in unexpected places, it's unnerving to hear that his wife had been listening so closely, as though she were an assassin embedded in his own home. He supposed it wasn't out of the question, but there was no sense to do that now - not when he were just a mere aspiring Senator. Forcing the thought from his mind, Roland returns to putting away the groceries. How could he think such horrible things of his wife when she had graced him with a smile?
At the accidental touch, he remembers that he might have gently taken his first wife's hand and leaned in for a kiss, but refrains here. "I'd love some, thank you. Whatever you'd like." He is so desperate to wring some sort of joy out of their relationship, just learning what kind of tea would satisfy her would be enough.
"I got something new today. The woman at the store recommended it, green tea and lemongrass with mint." A pause, before she takes a second tin from the bag, "I've always suspected you would prefer a strong black tea."
She too wants to find some measure of joy here, trapped though she is. It hasn't been easy, considering how incredibly undomestic she is, but she tries. Small acts of kindness, proving that she's not here with malicious intent--though Riza is reserved and straight-laced it has never been a secret that she was kind when given the chance. After setting the kettle on the stove and getting two mugs, she kneels to be closer to Gingerbread.
Physical affection was never something she had been comfortable with. Starved of it as a child and not permitted it with the man she loved as an adult, Riza preferred distance over contact. Except with her beloved dog--and here, with Gingerbread, who took the opportunity to plant his paws on her shoulder and bump his face against hers. More to herself than the cat: "You're ridiculous, Gingerbread."
She still allows the cat to climb up to her shoulder and supports him there, gently patting his ears as she gets back to her feet. "How was your day?"
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At the accidental touch, he remembers that he might have gently taken his first wife's hand and leaned in for a kiss, but refrains here. "I'd love some, thank you. Whatever you'd like." He is so desperate to wring some sort of joy out of their relationship, just learning what kind of tea would satisfy her would be enough.
This icon because she is holding Hayate
She too wants to find some measure of joy here, trapped though she is. It hasn't been easy, considering how incredibly undomestic she is, but she tries. Small acts of kindness, proving that she's not here with malicious intent--though Riza is reserved and straight-laced it has never been a secret that she was kind when given the chance. After setting the kettle on the stove and getting two mugs, she kneels to be closer to Gingerbread.
Physical affection was never something she had been comfortable with. Starved of it as a child and not permitted it with the man she loved as an adult, Riza preferred distance over contact. Except with her beloved dog--and here, with Gingerbread, who took the opportunity to plant his paws on her shoulder and bump his face against hers. More to herself than the cat: "You're ridiculous, Gingerbread."
She still allows the cat to climb up to her shoulder and supports him there, gently patting his ears as she gets back to her feet. "How was your day?"