05-06-2021, 03:44 PM
She didn’t meet either of their gazes, not directly. A chair nudged. An arm waved in her peripheral.
Most people presumed Eido was just painfully shy. She never saw reason to correct the assumption; it was a useful shield, for the most part, and more preferable to her than employing rudeness. Usually those who crossed her path lost interest when they realised she could not be coaxed from her shell. The attempts she always endured demurely, as she did now. Her fingers laced in her lap, patient as the cliff watching the endless rasp of the sea.
The man who called himself Z was kind on the heels of his friend’s bold tease. She did not need the permission offered, but he smoothed her path to a gracious retreat, and for that she was grateful. Her lips softened, close enough to be understood as a smile without slipping into the territory of an invitation, and her head tilted brief acknowledgement. It would have been easy enough to leave it at that, but it tasted too sourly of rejection on her part, and Eido felt no claim to such a weapon. She did not wish to be insulting, thus felt the need to clarify.
“Your company is not at fault, I assure you. Rather, I would not wish to be the onerous burden. I am not worth the effort of charm, I am better suited to the company of books.” Books she somewhat regretted carefully placing back on their shelves now, for at least it would have been a distraction. Eating while reading would have been disrespectful, though. “You are both quite welcome to share what I have. The dish came at the recommendation of the General Manager; a promised bite of heaven. Please. It would be a shame to allow it to grow cold.”
Most people presumed Eido was just painfully shy. She never saw reason to correct the assumption; it was a useful shield, for the most part, and more preferable to her than employing rudeness. Usually those who crossed her path lost interest when they realised she could not be coaxed from her shell. The attempts she always endured demurely, as she did now. Her fingers laced in her lap, patient as the cliff watching the endless rasp of the sea.
The man who called himself Z was kind on the heels of his friend’s bold tease. She did not need the permission offered, but he smoothed her path to a gracious retreat, and for that she was grateful. Her lips softened, close enough to be understood as a smile without slipping into the territory of an invitation, and her head tilted brief acknowledgement. It would have been easy enough to leave it at that, but it tasted too sourly of rejection on her part, and Eido felt no claim to such a weapon. She did not wish to be insulting, thus felt the need to clarify.
“Your company is not at fault, I assure you. Rather, I would not wish to be the onerous burden. I am not worth the effort of charm, I am better suited to the company of books.” Books she somewhat regretted carefully placing back on their shelves now, for at least it would have been a distraction. Eating while reading would have been disrespectful, though. “You are both quite welcome to share what I have. The dish came at the recommendation of the General Manager; a promised bite of heaven. Please. It would be a shame to allow it to grow cold.”
![[Image: cherry-blosson.png]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/cherry-blosson.png)