[Her gaze slides over to him, anger dissipating a little in the face of his sudden silence. She can't tell what he's thinking and can't help but think that maybe, once upon a time, she might have at least had a clue.
... This brain thing had better not be permanent.
After a moment, she shakes it off as best she can and turns her attention back to her tea.]
Might want to stir that once in awhile. Pasta sticks sometimes.
[action]
... This brain thing had better not be permanent.
After a moment, she shakes it off as best she can and turns her attention back to her tea.]
Might want to stir that once in awhile. Pasta sticks sometimes.