She dropped the article back into his hand -- letting it pool in his palm.
Did she, though? Did she know? Maybe she was learning; Jack helped with that. But she had grown so invested in her Slayerosity in the last few years back home.
"I also like long walks of the beach, sugar and milk in my tea, and ice-skating."
He'd always been particular about his. As he slung the tie over his neck and tugged on the ends of it, shifting it back and forth to slip beneath his collar, he remained impressed.
"Honestly? My favourite kind of tea is the kind I don't have to make myself."
With so much milk and sugar, who could be picky? And she didn't feel like blabbing about her medicinal, contraceptive tea that she took alongside her morning routine.
"Ease and comfort. I could see the draw if not for the sacrifice in taste." In, around, a thumb held here, and a loop around again, up and over, a thread through. Tug, tug. "Although I admit I'm a bit picky about tea."
"Are they? I was under the impression that a few of my countrymen were born inept at tasting those subtleties and brewing it properly." He had met men back at Cambridge who argued tea before. They had argued everything, back then.
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Did she, though? Did she know? Maybe she was learning; Jack helped with that. But she had grown so invested in her Slayerosity in the last few years back home.
"I also like long walks of the beach, sugar and milk in my tea, and ice-skating."
More than a Slayer; also Buffy Summers.
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He'd always been particular about his. As he slung the tie over his neck and tugged on the ends of it, shifting it back and forth to slip beneath his collar, he remained impressed.
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With so much milk and sugar, who could be picky? And she didn't feel like blabbing about her medicinal, contraceptive tea that she took alongside her morning routine.
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