He recognises the joke, and smiles at it; but it is a smile clearly born of politeness more than anything else, and it is a fleeting thing. It is a relief, then, that the waitress is there; that he can look up, and ask her for another latte, please (although his current one is still half-full). It is mostly to make a break in the conversation, to make less of the awkward lack of laughter.
"I did not mean it as an insult," he says, after a moment, looking back at Cersei. His grey eyes are sincere, steady and cool in their regard. "Only that..." Again, that small crease between his brows, that slight look of distance. "Have you read any of Robert Graves' work? Or Sassoon's? They do not brighten very much; on the contrary, they are bleaker than most prose. But poetry gives shape to darkness, and makes it something that can be shared and lightened, and when I think of living without that, I start to understand why my father..."
He breaks off sharply, and looks away, clearing his throat. "It is not a world I would like to live in."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-10-03 11:29 pm (UTC)"I did not mean it as an insult," he says, after a moment, looking back at Cersei. His grey eyes are sincere, steady and cool in their regard. "Only that..." Again, that small crease between his brows, that slight look of distance. "Have you read any of Robert Graves' work? Or Sassoon's? They do not brighten very much; on the contrary, they are bleaker than most prose. But poetry gives shape to darkness, and makes it something that can be shared and lightened, and when I think of living without that, I start to understand why my father..."
He breaks off sharply, and looks away, clearing his throat. "It is not a world I would like to live in."