He jumps a little, startled less by her approach - it is hardly the first time she has joined him at his table, after all, even when the place is less than full; he is not sure whether she is lonely or whether it's just that this is her favourite table, too - and more by the accusing tone of her voice. She sounds as though he's done her a personal wrong, and even Faramir, who quite often feels himself responsible for things he has not done, is moderately confident that is not so.
It is, therefore, a second or two before he can compose a response. "I suppose I didn't realise I had become quite so much a fixture." She isn't wrong, after all. Someone might have worried. Judging by the conversation he had with the barista at the counter, several someones had. That is, he supposes, the downside of belonging somewhere.
He didn't expect her to worry, though. He knows her by face, and he remembers her name - Cersei, she told him once, although he can't think that he knows the other part of it - but that is all, really. She is a beautiful stranger, to borrow a phrase; someone he occasionally, and a little guiltily, admires, but not someone he considers more than a passing acquaintance. They've passed a few words; he usually tries not to talk too much, since she said once that she came here to study, and he wouldn't like to distract her. He stopped wondering, fairly early on, why she keeps crossing his path, assuming that she is here more often than he is, and it would never occur to him that she would notice his absence when he has only missed one or two of his usual coffee breaks.
"If I worried you, I'm sorry. I was called away for a little while." There was a medal involved, an order of commendation to match the one they pinned to his brother's coffin. He has wondered several times, looking at it, whether it would have made any difference if his father had known it was coming.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-09-19 11:34 pm (UTC)It is, therefore, a second or two before he can compose a response. "I suppose I didn't realise I had become quite so much a fixture." She isn't wrong, after all. Someone might have worried. Judging by the conversation he had with the barista at the counter, several someones had. That is, he supposes, the downside of belonging somewhere.
He didn't expect her to worry, though. He knows her by face, and he remembers her name - Cersei, she told him once, although he can't think that he knows the other part of it - but that is all, really. She is a beautiful stranger, to borrow a phrase; someone he occasionally, and a little guiltily, admires, but not someone he considers more than a passing acquaintance. They've passed a few words; he usually tries not to talk too much, since she said once that she came here to study, and he wouldn't like to distract her. He stopped wondering, fairly early on, why she keeps crossing his path, assuming that she is here more often than he is, and it would never occur to him that she would notice his absence when he has only missed one or two of his usual coffee breaks.
"If I worried you, I'm sorry. I was called away for a little while." There was a medal involved, an order of commendation to match the one they pinned to his brother's coffin. He has wondered several times, looking at it, whether it would have made any difference if his father had known it was coming.