{ Heart }:
❝ Coming from you, that’s SOMEWHAT assuring. ❞
a coarse extremity dismissively waves once in the direction of his intrinsically pertinacious companion before masculine appendages dispassionately proceed to grip the silver handle of a lone dining utensil. modest portions of the steaming liquid - consumable letters and all - are conspicuously taken. primarily for HER benefit, but it is certainly not as if the obdurate individual genuinely doubts that this mundane meal will be able to contribute to his recovery.
❝ I can take care of myself, but I appreciate your concern. Normally, I wouldn’t turn to someone who thinks that alphabet soup is for people of ALL ages for professional help, but YOU’RE an exception. ❞
“ Argents are always the exception.”
There is a significant amount of pride in that statement. Not something she takes lightly. After all, Chris Argent wouldn’t just loan his last name out to anybody. Nor would she carelessly attach such a prominent one, in both the natural and supernatural world.
She’s pleased, however, that he does actually eat a little bit of the soup. He’ll probably never do so again. So she decides to commit it to memory.
“ I know, I know. Chris Argent doesn’t get injured, doesn’t have time to bleed, never gets sick. And for your information, there’s vegetables in that soup, so it will so make you better faster. I know how much you hate that, so I won’t tell you how good it is for you. If your stomach can handle that, maybe you’ll get reheated spaghetti for dinner. And I’ll bring you a pen so you can sign your name on some of that paperwork. That should make your day.”
