"You'll be lucky if he don't paint your ceiling red," Gabe said with a roll of his eyes. His smile didn't really ease. Nor did the glowing amusement in his eyes. At least, not at that; it dimmed somewhat at the shift in Paddy's regard.
Solomon barely paid attention, aware of the Archangel's changes if only because it was impossible, on some level, to not be aware of him. No, it was Paddy Solomon was looking into, and to his surprise he actually felt something close to dread as some of the oasis' moisture dried up. Not withdrawn, not in refusal, but with the radiating, sand-baking heat of the sun. Shock.
"Ah." Solomon's mouth twisted, and he was keenly aware of the congregation nearby, those who had already left the church and were chatting nearby, and those who were waiting to greet their minister (or were sidling past the rest, opting not to wait at all). "My former colleagues caught up with me. They ... decided that a little extra dependence might keep me from trying to leave again."
Some people understood enough of the context that their souls radiated shocked suspicion as well as curiosity. And something similar enough, from each to each, that he knew it was pity. He'd known it would be before he even said anything, which was why the words came out self-conscious.
Somehow it was different, to be telling Paddy this. He was a mortal, and one which didn't tend to simply accept hardship as a part of life, even while trying to change it. He was the sort to be genuinely shocked and saddened by it. Part of Solomon didn't want to see that. Another part of him felt oddly ... ashamed. Because Paddy had given of his time and his care even though he didn't have to, was initially frightened of Solomon's own magic, and Solomon's foolishness had led him into being injured. As if Solomon hadn't been careful enough with himself.
"Why don't we wait inside for you?" he suggested lightly, feeling almost itchy with the intense curiosity surrounding him. Once again, he was under a spotlight, and he didn't want to be there. Without realising it, he fisted the hand not on Ghastly's arm and stowed it inside his pocket before anyone could see the nail-scar on it.
no subject
Solomon barely paid attention, aware of the Archangel's changes if only because it was impossible, on some level, to not be aware of him. No, it was Paddy Solomon was looking into, and to his surprise he actually felt something close to dread as some of the oasis' moisture dried up. Not withdrawn, not in refusal, but with the radiating, sand-baking heat of the sun. Shock.
"Ah." Solomon's mouth twisted, and he was keenly aware of the congregation nearby, those who had already left the church and were chatting nearby, and those who were waiting to greet their minister (or were sidling past the rest, opting not to wait at all). "My former colleagues caught up with me. They ... decided that a little extra dependence might keep me from trying to leave again."
Some people understood enough of the context that their souls radiated shocked suspicion as well as curiosity. And something similar enough, from each to each, that he knew it was pity. He'd known it would be before he even said anything, which was why the words came out self-conscious.
Somehow it was different, to be telling Paddy this. He was a mortal, and one which didn't tend to simply accept hardship as a part of life, even while trying to change it. He was the sort to be genuinely shocked and saddened by it. Part of Solomon didn't want to see that. Another part of him felt oddly ... ashamed. Because Paddy had given of his time and his care even though he didn't have to, was initially frightened of Solomon's own magic, and Solomon's foolishness had led him into being injured. As if Solomon hadn't been careful enough with himself.
"Why don't we wait inside for you?" he suggested lightly, feeling almost itchy with the intense curiosity surrounding him. Once again, he was under a spotlight, and he didn't want to be there. Without realising it, he fisted the hand not on Ghastly's arm and stowed it inside his pocket before anyone could see the nail-scar on it.