☽ Table Manners
@crben
Like every respective table in the great hall, there were sectors of vacancy. It is blindly assumed that these areas are home to those welcomed loneliness with open arms. It seems that the ones with more extroverted inclinations preferred their shoulders and hips to meshed uncomfortably with another’s. Clotarie just so happens to be one of those people—extroverted on the lighter side, some can say, but that evening beholds a one-sided appointment with he who sits in isolation. To call him the lesser favorite Jang was an oversimplification. He begins with skimming his fingertips against the table’s surface, as if leaving a malevolent trace the closer he approaches the lonesome lad. The lateral view of the younger Slytherin is presented just ahead of the elder, where a stare with a familiar but contained calamity bounces to and from the two sets of eyes. Among all the things aching to be said and shuddering to be acted out, Clotarie’s impending words counteract it all. However, what are words when two hazel orbs possessed the aptitude to convey so much more? “May I?” On cue does a proper set of silverware appear in alignment with his stance. A dish with fresh vegetables and chicken breast follows suit in the center. The goblet at the corner of it all flips out of its upside down position, automatically filling itself to the brim with a sweet, amber liquid. Surely, the presentation before him granted him the right the sit, but it will Benjamin, always Benjamin who will provoke the boldest actions from Clotarie.
