@gentlegiantingvar continued from here [x]
It was not as though Ingvar was not drinking- apple cider made in a certain way, he found out several visits ago, was indeed alcoholic- but he was by no means drunk. Nothing like Ivakir, slurring and reeking of the stuff as she spoke and touched him and tried to look him in the eyes. Ingvar was not one who looked people in the face often, so Ivakir could not look him in the eyes when she tried to.
Maybe he was overly-serious. It wasn’t that he wasn’t having fun, or that he was upset. He was simply thinking; he was confused, puzzled, suddenly, as things about Ivakir suddenly seemed to line up. He had his own theories about it, why she acted like this, and drunk herself silly, but he kept them to himself, for he did not want to be rude, nor assume, nor make Ivakir upset with him.
He frowned. “I have not moved, Ivakir. I am listening,” he said, crossing his arms. “And what you were just saying is an example of what I ask about. You… are always saying such strange things, like that people are in awe of you, or… er… you will… eat my beard. But then you are acting differently sometimes. Why?”
"But they are really in ... awe of me, and I really want to eat your bea-ard! Ah, what do you understand? Again you with your stupid questions!"
Ivakir pushed Ingvar lightly, as if he was drunk on her shoulder, and frowned at her glass, propping her head in her hands. Oh, his questions, how she hated them! And why did he have to spoil her mood? Ivakir this, Ivakir that, Ivakir why are you behaving this way, Ivakir why are you like that, and go on - goddess, what kind of person will ask such questions?! Probably the one who lived in the mountains for a long time, like a damn hermit, without seeing people, and... ah, yes.
"And you..! You always walk like this, hanging your beard!" the witch decided not to remain in debt and, slightly nudging Ingvar in the shoulder, attracted his attention again. "And you never... never... never smile! How can I trust you if you never smile?"
It impressed her so much that she even sobered up for a moment, and then got drunk again. In the evening, it was the only sober thought, and she discovered it by accident, only when she only had beer in her head instead of brains. No wonder they say that brilliant thoughts come only when you're drunk. But the fact remained the fact - Ingvar never smiled. Or she just has never seen him smiling. Sober she never noticed it, or just didn't want to pay attention, but it only came to her right now. When he spoke or did something, he always looked either too depressed or too serious. Even when the situation was never sweet and never serious, the corners of his lips always remained lowered.
"You... you never smile!" Ivakir, who poked her finger at Ingvar, as if he had committed some crime, already attracted the attention of other visitors with her loud voice, but then they turned away. "Why is it so? Aren’t you having fun with me? What harm do I do to you that you never smile at me?" she fell silent for a while, and then her face changed into an ugly one, as if she was about to cry. "Am I that evil? Is this a reason?"
