[ Thomas isn't alone in the feeling. there's been a knot somewhere down in John's stomach for half the day - nothing huge, not unpleasant. just a small, tight thing hidden away in there somewhere which has been jolting at intervals: when John checks the time, when he put his coat on half an hour ago to head out the door. just to remind him it's there.
the situation isn't the same as it had been last time they did this, the gala realigning and ironing out some of the creases in whatever this is between them, and this time around John hasn't questioned himself over or denied himself the small pleasures of making a particular kind of effort. a light application of a smokier, woodier fragrance than he wears as a day to day: not too much, enough to compliment a new jacket, crisp shirt. it's not a transformation by any means, just himself slightly elevated, but it's nice to have a reason to bother.
and here they are again. John catches the trace of a smile, raises it an unguarded one of his own. ]
Evening Thomas. [ and he tips his head towards the door. ] Hungry?
no subject
the situation isn't the same as it had been last time they did this, the gala realigning and ironing out some of the creases in whatever this is between them, and this time around John hasn't questioned himself over or denied himself the small pleasures of making a particular kind of effort. a light application of a smokier, woodier fragrance than he wears as a day to day: not too much, enough to compliment a new jacket, crisp shirt. it's not a transformation by any means, just himself slightly elevated, but it's nice to have a reason to bother.
and here they are again. John catches the trace of a smile, raises it an unguarded one of his own. ]
Evening Thomas. [ and he tips his head towards the door. ] Hungry?