02-07-2019, 10:44 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]The man knew all too well what it was like to love and lose someone.
His past experiences had been part of the reason why he ended up here in the first place. It was for the best, though  staying back home would have just reminded him every day of what had been stripped away. This place seemed nice enough; it was warm and smelled of pine needles and freshly chopped wood. Today, the downstairs of the Lodge held stronger smell, apparently that of a certain essence. There, standing by the window, stood the young woman Elinor who Jay had acquainted himself with over the past week. He wouldn't consider himself a super friendly guy, but he found himself enjoying chatting with her. She wasn't bothersome or annoying.
"Is that tea?" Jay strolled over, hands in his pockets. "I'm more of a whiskey and coffee kind of guy." Not really. Maybe he had been at one point, but 1) Both were hard to come by these days and 2) He was no longer a borderline alcoholic. Whiskey for breakfast? Yeah, no thanks. Jay was no longer trying to deteriorate his body by guzzling that stuff day and night. He had long gotten over his stages of grief and bitterness and trying to forget, although those negative memories popped up often.
As one did in normal human interaction, his blue-gray gaze flickered over towards the female's features as he awaited a response. When he did so, he noticed the redness as well as wetness around her eyes. Anybody could put two-and-two together and notice that she was, indeed, crying. This was... this was not normal, not from what he had seen of Elinor so far. She was a genuine and kind-hearted woman who never seemed down. Then again, everybody had emotions  even the sweet ones.
So, the masculine features shifted from a relatively casual expression to that of a more furrowed and concerned one. He turned more towards her and tilted his head as to get a gander at her visage. The man didn't want to sound pushy, so he would softly ask, "Somethin' wrong? Why the tears?" Perhaps Elinor would feel better in confiding in someone else, even if they weren't exactly the closest. If not? Then he'd leave her be. He knew first-hand that it was frustrating when someone was obnoxious in trying to "help" him with his issues... especially when said issues took time and patience to heal.
His past experiences had been part of the reason why he ended up here in the first place. It was for the best, though  staying back home would have just reminded him every day of what had been stripped away. This place seemed nice enough; it was warm and smelled of pine needles and freshly chopped wood. Today, the downstairs of the Lodge held stronger smell, apparently that of a certain essence. There, standing by the window, stood the young woman Elinor who Jay had acquainted himself with over the past week. He wouldn't consider himself a super friendly guy, but he found himself enjoying chatting with her. She wasn't bothersome or annoying.
"Is that tea?" Jay strolled over, hands in his pockets. "I'm more of a whiskey and coffee kind of guy." Not really. Maybe he had been at one point, but 1) Both were hard to come by these days and 2) He was no longer a borderline alcoholic. Whiskey for breakfast? Yeah, no thanks. Jay was no longer trying to deteriorate his body by guzzling that stuff day and night. He had long gotten over his stages of grief and bitterness and trying to forget, although those negative memories popped up often.
As one did in normal human interaction, his blue-gray gaze flickered over towards the female's features as he awaited a response. When he did so, he noticed the redness as well as wetness around her eyes. Anybody could put two-and-two together and notice that she was, indeed, crying. This was... this was not normal, not from what he had seen of Elinor so far. She was a genuine and kind-hearted woman who never seemed down. Then again, everybody had emotions  even the sweet ones.
So, the masculine features shifted from a relatively casual expression to that of a more furrowed and concerned one. He turned more towards her and tilted his head as to get a gander at her visage. The man didn't want to sound pushy, so he would softly ask, "Somethin' wrong? Why the tears?" Perhaps Elinor would feel better in confiding in someone else, even if they weren't exactly the closest. If not? Then he'd leave her be. He knew first-hand that it was frustrating when someone was obnoxious in trying to "help" him with his issues... especially when said issues took time and patience to heal.
[align=center]![[Image: ytyBp1j.png]](https://i.imgur.com/ytyBp1j.png)