[The smile she gets in reply is a little bigger, a little brighter. He doesn't linger in it, though. There's an inherent awkwardness in coming at learning about a person like this, and looking at her like a sap isn't going to help.]
Well, we could start with your favourite flower.
[This smile is a little slyer as he serves a generous slice of the coulibiac onto her plate, some relief at seeing the layers of fish and vegetable inside are pretty much perfect.]
Or, you know. [Passing her a knife and fork.] Begin at the beginning.
[ She likes his dumb smile. Saints help her, this town has done something to her.
With a roll of her eyes, Zoya decides she won't be starting at the beginning. The beginning is where she prefers to end her tales of who she is. It contains too many landmines she doesn't wish to set off. ]
I like orchids. Any colour, although I prefer blue. [ What a surprise. ] They're very rare.
[ Zoya smiles, leaning back in her chair a touch smug. ]
[The look he gives her for that is a little flat, a non-verbal come on, seriously. But it isn't like he doesn't understand how hard it is, peeling it all back and laying it all out. At least, when he isn't using it as a weapon, as armour.]
Don't really have one. [Is what he settles on, shrugging.] Apocalypse, space.
[He serves himself a slice of the coulibiac, takes his seat. Decides to lead by example.]
I grew up on farm station. Algae was the first and only plant I knew for a long time.
[ It's so easy to continue giving him such non-answers that reveal a little but not much about her. But he tells her of a farm station, and all she can think about is Pachina, her aunt's chickens, and the dirt beneath her nails her mother used to resent. Did he ever have dirt beneath his nails? Did he ever get to make his hands so dirty his mother would scrub them clean until his skin was red?
But she doesn't wish to speak of Pachina. That's in the past—dead, gone, buried. Instead - ]
My aunt had chickens. [ She glances down for a moment, ignoring the food despite it being a perfect way to distract herself. (If she does that, he'll give her another one of those looks.) ] She had a very small farm. You probably would've found it overwhelming—I don't think there was algae, but she liked growing strawberries, peppers, and potatoes.
[ Many things. She should've opened a vegetable shop instead of tea. Zoya looks at Murphy, curious. ] Have you ever had them?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Well, we could start with your favourite flower.
[This smile is a little slyer as he serves a generous slice of the coulibiac onto her plate, some relief at seeing the layers of fish and vegetable inside are pretty much perfect.]
Or, you know. [Passing her a knife and fork.] Begin at the beginning.
no subject
With a roll of her eyes, Zoya decides she won't be starting at the beginning. The beginning is where she prefers to end her tales of who she is. It contains too many landmines she doesn't wish to set off. ]
I like orchids. Any colour, although I prefer blue. [ What a surprise. ] They're very rare.
[ Zoya smiles, leaning back in her chair a touch smug. ]
What's yours?
no subject
Don't really have one. [Is what he settles on, shrugging.] Apocalypse, space.
[He serves himself a slice of the coulibiac, takes his seat. Decides to lead by example.]
I grew up on farm station. Algae was the first and only plant I knew for a long time.
no subject
But she doesn't wish to speak of Pachina. That's in the past—dead, gone, buried. Instead - ]
My aunt had chickens. [ She glances down for a moment, ignoring the food despite it being a perfect way to distract herself. (If she does that, he'll give her another one of those looks.) ] She had a very small farm. You probably would've found it overwhelming—I don't think there was algae, but she liked growing strawberries, peppers, and potatoes.
[ Many things. She should've opened a vegetable shop instead of tea. Zoya looks at Murphy, curious. ] Have you ever had them?