[ Watching Claude try to puzzle out the enchantment she’s sketched out, there’s a part of her that thinks he’ll solve it (because if there’s anyone who can, it’s him). Like he’ll somehow read her mind because as good as she’s gotten at hiding what she’s thinking, someone who could read minds — or just because it’s Claude and he knows her as well as she thought she knew him — wouldn’t have any trouble figuring out what she’s trying to do and why she’s trying to hide it from him in the first place.
But instead he’s putting the necklace down and moving onto something else.
When a brief frown graces her features, Hilda realizes a split second later how hypocritical and bratty of a reaction it is. She had purposefully been vague. This is what she had decided. Claude not prodding, Claude respecting the half truth she had given him is what she wanted. So why did it bother her that he wasn’t needling her for more details? Is it because this isn’t the script they’ve followed for years? Or is it because she had hoped that he’d figure it out and offer a suggestion on how to make her idea better in the ways just like he had in the past? His light, joking tone doesn’t betray anything which really only serves to agitate her further, and that certainly doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that she’s got a book corner prodding her in the side.
There’s a knee jerk reaction that is tempting to see through to the end — one where she childishly asks why he’s just giving up so easily. Instead, some combination of anxiety, stubbornness, and a topic change has her swallowing it before it can potentially make the situation worse.
Absently, she twirls a piece of her hair around her finger trying to read between the lines for a question Claude didn’t ask. ]
Are you offering to take me shopping? Because if you are…I could probably skip out on my nap for that. [ Hilda’s eyes glint teasingly, the lilt in her voice one of genuine interest that she doesn’t have to feign. Shopping — particularly when it isn’t her own money — never fails to cheer her up. ] Or are you trying to commission something from me? Because you know I’d never accept your money that way.
no subject
But instead he’s putting the necklace down and moving onto something else.
When a brief frown graces her features, Hilda realizes a split second later how hypocritical and bratty of a reaction it is. She had purposefully been vague. This is what she had decided. Claude not prodding, Claude respecting the half truth she had given him is what she wanted. So why did it bother her that he wasn’t needling her for more details? Is it because this isn’t the script they’ve followed for years? Or is it because she had hoped that he’d figure it out and offer a suggestion on how to make her idea better in the ways just like he had in the past? His light, joking tone doesn’t betray anything which really only serves to agitate her further, and that certainly doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that she’s got a book corner prodding her in the side.
There’s a knee jerk reaction that is tempting to see through to the end — one where she childishly asks why he’s just giving up so easily. Instead, some combination of anxiety, stubbornness, and a topic change has her swallowing it before it can potentially make the situation worse.
Absently, she twirls a piece of her hair around her finger trying to read between the lines for a question Claude didn’t ask. ]
Are you offering to take me shopping? Because if you are…I could probably skip out on my nap for that. [ Hilda’s eyes glint teasingly, the lilt in her voice one of genuine interest that she doesn’t have to feign. Shopping — particularly when it isn’t her own money — never fails to cheer her up. ] Or are you trying to commission something from me? Because you know I’d never accept your money that way.