[we'll pretend this is when he's still wearing it before he dumps it on harrow to help her keep warm]
Something to drink, Nav?
[this is an open invitation for her to tell her whatever she wants, and luckily they've spent enough time together that she probably speaks fairly fluent Thancred by now, so]
[Things he's seen at the coffee bar: hot milk, chocolate drizzle, whipped cream, sugar. The beverage he soon returns with is a kind of janky hot cocoa that's probably a little oversweet, but hey, he also made it himself.
[this is very sweet. both like, emotionally but also in the teeth rotting way.
gideon doesn't seem to mind? in fact, she will drink this and probably finish it, because unlike harrowhark she wishes to be flavor blasted like a medieval peasant.]
Passable. [she says, with another drink. she reaches to adjust harrow's coat and blanket pile, and when she resettles, if he's sitting next to her she'll press their shoulders together.]
[He shifts a little, reaches over, and presses lightly on the side of her head like he's inviting her to go one step further and lower her head down onto his shoulder if she wants to.]
[it's not quite hesitation, but there is a little bit of assessing, maybe. and then she will actually just do that, folding her arms across her chest and resting her head on his shoulder.]
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Something to drink, Nav?
[this is an open invitation for her to tell her whatever she wants, and luckily they've spent enough time together that she probably speaks fairly fluent Thancred by now, so]
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Not unless there's sugar hiding somewhere. Coffee tastes like ass. [...] Sit down, you're making my skin itch.
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[Things he's seen at the coffee bar: hot milk, chocolate drizzle, whipped cream, sugar. The beverage he soon returns with is a kind of janky hot cocoa that's probably a little oversweet, but hey, he also made it himself.
And passes it over to her as he sits down.]
There. Rot your teeth as you like.
no subject
gideon doesn't seem to mind? in fact, she will drink this and probably finish it, because unlike harrowhark she wishes to be flavor blasted like a medieval peasant.]
Passable. [she says, with another drink. she reaches to adjust harrow's coat and blanket pile, and when she resettles, if he's sitting next to her she'll press their shoulders together.]
no subject
[He shifts a little, reaches over, and presses lightly on the side of her head like he's inviting her to go one step further and lower her head down onto his shoulder if she wants to.]
I'll take first watch, then?
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Yeah. Just tap me for second.
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