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Entry tags:
open.
WHO: Derrica + OTA
WHAT: Office Hours
WHEN: Guardian
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Drop in, door's open.
WHAT: Office Hours
WHEN: Guardian
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Drop in, door's open.
There is nothing technically wrong with the Project Haven conference room and office. They are orderly, without any tangible sign of the intentions of their former owner.
Still, Derrica has thrown open the single window in the office wide in spite of the cold. There is a small crate just beside the doorway between office and conference room, where Derrica has been pitching anything she finds questionable. (Chantry texts to be relocated to records or the chapel, small items that might be personal affects, or are simply not to her taste.) She's left the doors open behind her, the one leading into the conference room, the one leading into the corridor, and the one leading into the Forces and Diplomacy workspaces as well, as if to promote circulation to the highest degree possible.
What comes after the cleaning is something Derrica is still working out.
She's never had an office. She's yet to even sit down at her allotted desk in the Forces workroom. But here she is, and she make something of the space. It's expected, she's certain.
Her hands are full of Chantry hymnals when the sound of footsteps pulls her attention from them.
"Watch out for the box," is her first, immediate word of caution. It's only partly blocking the doorway, but just enough to be a hazard to the unsuspecting.
Welcome to Project Haven. Don't mind the momentary clutter.
no subject
He slings the sack onto her desktop, and again, it clinks and thuds. Quickly he pulls it open and begins unloading things, naming as he goes.
"Cups. Cheese, bread, more cheese--from Kirkwall, not the kitchens, I got it at the market, special. The bread has seeds in, it's dead delicious. Mead--two bottles, one so we can have a drink now, one so you can save it later. I hadn't had any mead but now that I have, I love it. And candles--I know Riftwatch has some in the storeroom but these are good ones, they last for ages, proper beeswax--and you'll need those if you're going to be shut up in an office all day. Quills for writing and this is blue ink, here. And this little box--"
He holds it up for her to see. Finely shaped, with a delicate single hinge, the wood has been stained a glossy black. It's only a bit bigger than his palm.
"It's for decoration, mostly. But you could keep stuff in it if you like. The inside is blue. Made me think of you."
puts shamed hand over time stamp
It's nearly overwhelming. Derrica swallows against the sudden lump in her throat, looking at all the things he's brought her. How much time did it take Matthias to collect all of it? Candles and good food and this lovely box, all for her. Such sweetness.
Derrica covers her mouth briefly, palm pressing against her lips before she simply rounds the desk and throws her arms around him.
Careful of the box, of course. But that caution doesn't diminish the sincerity of the action, how tightly she holds onto him.
"You're so good to me," she tells him, voice gone just a little thick over the words.
i see no timestamp just a good honest tag
All this is to say that when she is suddenly hugging him, it's a bit of a surprise, but absolutely a welcome one. Matthias puts his arms around her straightaway, returning her embrace.
"Well, yeah," and there's enough emotion in her voice that his ears start to go a little pink. "I mean, you deserve people being good to you. And you're easy to be good to, 'cause you're good. Or I think you are. I mean, you are, and--well, you know what I mean. Sorry. Stupid. But you do deserve it, and much more besides. And anyway, I like you. I mean, actually, I love you, right, but--" Matthias, you're an idiot, shut up-- "Right. Look, you say something or I'll keep talking."