[ Considering the cloth she's cut from, the people she grew up with, maybe Benji is somewhat used to finding smiles where there aren't any -- like her own, small and repressed, are only so because so few people ever did. In the same way Driver does not beckon her in with invitation, she bends her free hand around the edge of the door, and pushes it open just far enough to fit her narrow frame, and step through.
She separates one mug from the other, careful with the brimming warm in what feels like warmer metal, offering it out. ]
I wasn't sure if you were awake yet, [ she says. Is moved to explain, with a head tip; ] We'll be reaching Olympus soon. Actually soon, not 'just one more day' soon.
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She separates one mug from the other, careful with the brimming warm in what feels like warmer metal, offering it out. ]
I wasn't sure if you were awake yet, [ she says. Is moved to explain, with a head tip; ] We'll be reaching Olympus soon. Actually soon, not 'just one more day' soon.
[ These kinds of pilgrimages are still new. ]