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[personal profile] 3nanashi
The Winner estate library is, unsurprisingly, both comfortable and extensive.

In about three hours, Trowa will have to head back across the colony to the park where the circus has set up its tents, so he can change and warm up in time for the evening's show. But that's three hours from now. Right now, he's settled on one of the third-floor sofas in the Winner library, reading a borrowed book while Quatre's off getting tea.

(The caffeine is mostly for Quatre, who's a workaholic even when he's not rearranging his schedule to spend afternoons with a friend, but Trowa's not objecting to it either.)

Date: 2010-06-17 06:16 am (UTC)
04_after: (out of focus)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
The door to Quatre's suite is open, though door's far enough from the sofa--and the kitchen's far enough from the door-- that only the smallest noises of preparation can be heard.

Quatre's been keeping odd hours for most of his life, but he's been finishing work at 11-11:30pm at night for the past few days, and starting it again at 5am. It means that as the water boils he leans back against the counter and breathes in the peace between being at work and hanging out lazily with Trowa.

(Which is more than worth it; he never gets to see his closest friends. And, unlike Duo, you really need to talk to Trowa in person to catch up with him.

And other things, which he switches between obsessing over and ignoring, of course.)

He takes a call from his assistant as he removes the water from the heat.

Date: 2010-06-18 08:28 am (UTC)
04_after: (a thought!)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
As the tea brews, Quatre switches from the kitchen screen to his ear-piece. Pelle and he spend enough time together that the extra politeness of being able to see each other isn't worth the reduced capacity to wander. If Trowa does make out enough to grasp the language, it's French.

He goes into his room to pick up a folder, flips through it; asks for bios on the people being added to the evening discussion, as he walks back. He can read them when he gets to work. Quatre pours the tea, and walks back outside (by the time he's out in the library he's mostly murmuring agreements and quick, one-or-two word questions); he smiles apologetically at Trowa as he sets down the cup of tea on a coaster on his end table, and finishes off the conversation with a quick thank you and I'll see you later, before tucking himself onto the other side of the sofa with his tea.

The earpiece is turned off and clipped onto his shirt pocket. (Gauche, but he doubts Trowa will care. Unless he will.

Maybe he'll find an excuse to get up later, and put it back.)

Date: 2010-06-19 07:14 am (UTC)
04_after: (open)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre keeps his hands around the tea, breathing it in, trying to sort his emotions into a more organized set-up.

When Trowa finishes the post-chapter bio about the author: "Was that the one by Masih?"

Either that or Duvernay, from where Trowa is in the book; Quatre likes them both, as introspectives about ecosystems.

Date: 2010-06-19 07:27 am (UTC)
04_after: (do you think?)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre gives him a questioning look that says what did you think about it? as he dares a sip of the tea.

It's cool enough (just barely).

Date: 2010-06-19 08:23 am (UTC)
04_after: (talking)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre grins, a little; "It's not the most subtle of collections," he agrees, "but I think it's the best of Reicht's to date."

Lupe Reicht is the editor of the collection of short stories, Perspectives. Trowa's reading the fifth, and most recent, version.

"Duvernay makes an interesting contrast; I think I like Masih's better, with the objects' perspectives on people and the world, but his grasslands seem to not notice anything outside of themselves at all."

Date: 2010-06-20 03:00 am (UTC)
04_after: (open)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
"Mm," Quatre says, after another swallow of tea. "Not in literature, as far as I know? But they both work for the RCRC reparations in L5, last I spoke with Duvernay."

Date: 2010-06-20 03:17 am (UTC)
04_after: (friendly)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre smiles.

(He considers, briefly, saying I like it, again, but Trowa already knows.)

"I'm sure," he says, instead, "that it's ruined now that I've given away that you've read the best."

Date: 2010-06-20 03:38 am (UTC)
04_after: (having fun)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre laughs.

"Far be it from me to disturb scientific inquiry," he says, grin acknowledging the purposeful pretension.

Should he pick out a book, or just enjoy sitting with Trowa on the sofa?



...this decision doesn’t have to be made until he finishes his tea.

Date: 2010-06-20 03:48 am (UTC)
04_after: (appreciate life)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre doesn't mind.

Date: 2010-06-20 04:06 am (UTC)
04_after: (out of focus)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre’s not entirely certain when the companionable silence becomes strained.

(It's probably his fault. He's spent far too long over his tea, when he should’ve gone and got a book ten minutes ago. Maybe fifteen.

If he goes to get one now it will be awkward. If he doesn't, it will be awkward.

Maybe he should say something. But it looks like Trowa's thinking? Don’t be stupid, Trowa's always thinking. Maybe Trowa's waiting for him to say something. Nothing comes to mind except that idiotic speech nudging at his neurons. In his neurons? Via the method of--anyway.

No, he can't say that; he still has the earpiece clipped to his pocket like some fool.

And what if he has something in his teeth? He hasn't brushed since this morning.





He probably does.)

He starts when Bernie wanders into the room, discussing something on the phone about landlords, throws them an absent-minded thumbs-up, grabs a book from a shelf and leaves (patting Quatre’s head on the way).

"Uh, do--you want me to take in your cup? If you're done, I mean."

Date: 2010-06-20 04:53 am (UTC)
04_after: (out of focus)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre smiles at him slightly as he takes Trowa’s cup, and heads to suite kitchen, unclipping the earpiece and attaching it to the kitchen screen.

The water runs for longer than it really ought to, to wash the cups out preliminarily. This is because Quatre’s staring at it, and wondering if dunking his face in it will make him stop being stupid.

He turns it off, and goes to brush his teeth in the restroom instead.

(There’s nothing in them; he flosses, anyway.)

This is ridiculous, he thinks at his reflection. The worst that could happen is that he could be wrong, and they’d still be friends. Obviously not ideal, but would it be so awful? No, of course not.

He takes more risky chances every day before lunch. Well, at least twice a week. Quatre cleans the toothpaste off the corner of his mouth, eyes himself sideways for a moment, and walks back to the library with what he hopes is casu—oh, Trowa’s reading again.

Um.


Hm.

Date: 2010-06-20 05:04 am (UTC)
04_after: (open)
From: [personal profile] 04_after
Quatre laughs, slight and self-deprecating. "Don't mind me; I'm just being ridiculous."

He sits down at an angle where he had been earlier, facing inwards towards Trowa. "I'm going to steal your attention for a moment--well, a few moments. More of an indefinite amount of moments--from Reicht. Would you prefer to finish your chapter first?"

Date: 2010-06-20 05:26 am (UTC)
04_after: (out of focus)
From: [personal profile] 04_after





This was so much easier in theory.

"Basically," he says, voice a lot steadier than he feels, "I'm probably going to talk too much, but I'm prefacing this with the fact that I don't expect anything, and I'm--trying not to assume anything. Um."

Quatre glances sideways for a moment, before looking back. (His eyes wander to the side now and then, during the next part.) "It's a little redundant to say you're my best friend," he starts, wryly, "but I still feel like it's important, with everything else. Um--I'm pretty sure that's why it took me until two years ago to--well, I mean." He's definitely not looking at Trowa now, and his left hand is twisting at his right cufflink. "I think it's returned, or I wouldn't say, but--I could be wrong, and that's fine--um, I just--basically-I'm-also-attracted-to-you?"

He winces, almost, as he says it.

"Which, I mean, I can never bring it up again if that's a problem! And I mean, don't worry about--you're my best friend, I'm not--well, yes, I'm going to be awkward. But not for long--"

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Trowa Barton

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