Confessional

[forcefelt]

He had thought to stop by only for a moment or two--the sight of her comforted him now, in ways he would rather not explain. But the look of her made him pause, lingering in the doorway to watch her making notes on one case or another, her hair loose over her shoulders and down her back and her lower lip caught between her teeth in concentration

Comments

[claire_fraser]

I looked up from my work at the sound, and smiled when I realised it was Qui-Gon. "Hello," said, putting down my pen. "You needn't linger in the doorway... come on in."

[forcefelt]

"I suppose lingering in doorways doesn't entirely suit me," he replied, coming in as directed, taking a moment or two before settling into the chair opposite hers. He regarded her with a certain helpless warmth, wondering when she had grown so familiar to him.

He had nothing prepared in terms of conversation. "I shouldn't interrupt you." Admittedly, he sounded somewhat less than contrite.

[claire_fraser]

"I'm almost finished," I said. "Just routine notes, nothing critical. Besides, you could never really interrupt." Qui-Gon looked in somewhat better spirits than he had been when I had seen him last, which was a relief; he had been so despondent - so unusual for him - that I had been worried about him.

[forcefelt]

He chuckled a little grimly, doubting whether she should give him such a monopoly on her time, but not about to contradict her nevertheless. "I can meditate on patience until you are finished," he said with a slight curve of his lips. "I haven't had much practice, I confess." Others had often praised his patience, leaving him rather glad that no one knew the undeniable impatience of his innermost thoughts.

"Is all well with you?" She seemed quite as determinedly content as ever before, though perhaps just a bit brighter than was entirely usual.