[It's not that Emily has been avoiding Beth or the others. It's more that she's used to living here now, with fewer people in the house and more to do outside of it. She's used to the walk to the bar to pick up the coffee cart and her route through the city for her morning trip; used to the quick trek to the sewing shop and the sights along the way; used to the usual company at the shop, used to meeting weekly with Glacius to talk about home and culture, used to Pell coming over to cook now and then, used to sharing a memory with Delight when she needs fabric.
She's lucky, she guesses, that Hannah got here before all the others did. The chance to talk to her one on one without more potential awkwardness is one she's grateful for, and it has made things a little less awkward than they could be.
Mostly, the tension is brought on by guilt, but that will go away in time -- or at least it'll fade into the background, quiet more often than not, finally letting them settle into being friends again, stronger and better than before. (She misses that, being friends with them all, the comfortable back and forth they shared before everything went to shit.)
Emily turns on the stove and sets the pot down on it, glancing over her shoulder at Beth.]
Yeah. [She shrugs in acknowledgement of the thanks.] Delight keeps us supplied with good coffee, so we're not, like, aiming to bother her more for now. I think the clinic staff were starting to keep a list of edible plants and fruits, though, if you wanted to try making tea from that? And some people have asked for plants from their home world.
[She shrugs again, going to the cupboard for a mug. The tea she gets more of than normal, enough for both of them.
Now it feels awkward. There's a second or two more of silence before Emily says the first thing she can think of that isn't totally random and dorky.] You could ask any of the gods for tea if you want. Delight's the nicest, though.
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She's lucky, she guesses, that Hannah got here before all the others did. The chance to talk to her one on one without more potential awkwardness is one she's grateful for, and it has made things a little less awkward than they could be.
Mostly, the tension is brought on by guilt, but that will go away in time -- or at least it'll fade into the background, quiet more often than not, finally letting them settle into being friends again, stronger and better than before. (She misses that, being friends with them all, the comfortable back and forth they shared before everything went to shit.)
Emily turns on the stove and sets the pot down on it, glancing over her shoulder at Beth.]
Yeah. [She shrugs in acknowledgement of the thanks.] Delight keeps us supplied with good coffee, so we're not, like, aiming to bother her more for now. I think the clinic staff were starting to keep a list of edible plants and fruits, though, if you wanted to try making tea from that? And some people have asked for plants from their home world.
[She shrugs again, going to the cupboard for a mug. The tea she gets more of than normal, enough for both of them.
Now it feels awkward. There's a second or two more of silence before Emily says the first thing she can think of that isn't totally random and dorky.] You could ask any of the gods for tea if you want. Delight's the nicest, though.