( well right after getting back from searching for a probably dead kid, a little less cynicism is probably a tall order, too. he's willing enough to let that discussion die, avoid more exposure of feelings he'd rather pretend didn't exist. there's no helping what he did or didn't find. he's not giving up, far from it — but there's not really anything that is going to make him feel any better about Grizz being gone.
Matt grimaces and rubs his face, connecting dots he was not actually aware of. )
He's mixed in with those two? ( he doesn't know that much about Soldat, besides some blunt mentions of his brainwashing and taking note of how easily he takes suggestion. those two implies negative opinion of both, though really, it's just Crowley. he's not mad at Aziraphale, he's just disappointed he has the backbone of a creampuff. someone with a history of brainwashing and easily prone to suggestion having any relationship at all with Crowley sounds like a recipe for disaster.
it already was, turns out!
there's no opportunity to further gossip about the trio, however, as Matt straightens, suddenly, turning toward... well, it seems like nothing, until the practically silent pitter-patter of leafy feet finishes its approach and the spirit curls around his ankle. he feels both terrible to have woken the spirit, and at the same time, glad. he cares about Ivy a great deal, and while he wouldn't wake it just to comfort his demons. he puts his drink down to offer the spirit a hand and it climbs him like... well, for lack of a better word, a tree. from there it winds itself around his neck with quiet sounds of contentment. it's a practiced maneuver, clearly not the first cuddle Ivy has claimed.
he holds the spirit and rubs a hand over the especially tiny back, expression shifted into something less weary, less resigned, to something less raw. )
Thank you. For looking after Ivy. ( it's not the first time he's asked nor the first time he's been grateful, but especially now. when he realizes exactly how easy it is to lose something he cares about, to know that Ivy is in incredibly trustworthy hands means a lot. )
no subject
Matt grimaces and rubs his face, connecting dots he was not actually aware of. )
He's mixed in with those two? ( he doesn't know that much about Soldat, besides some blunt mentions of his brainwashing and taking note of how easily he takes suggestion. those two implies negative opinion of both, though really, it's just Crowley. he's not mad at Aziraphale, he's just disappointed he has the backbone of a creampuff. someone with a history of brainwashing and easily prone to suggestion having any relationship at all with Crowley sounds like a recipe for disaster.
it already was, turns out!
there's no opportunity to further gossip about the trio, however, as Matt straightens, suddenly, turning toward... well, it seems like nothing, until the practically silent pitter-patter of leafy feet finishes its approach and the spirit curls around his ankle. he feels both terrible to have woken the spirit, and at the same time, glad. he cares about Ivy a great deal, and while he wouldn't wake it just to comfort his demons. he puts his drink down to offer the spirit a hand and it climbs him like... well, for lack of a better word, a tree. from there it winds itself around his neck with quiet sounds of contentment. it's a practiced maneuver, clearly not the first cuddle Ivy has claimed.
he holds the spirit and rubs a hand over the especially tiny back, expression shifted into something less weary, less resigned, to something less raw. )
Thank you. For looking after Ivy. ( it's not the first time he's asked nor the first time he's been grateful, but especially now. when he realizes exactly how easy it is to lose something he cares about, to know that Ivy is in incredibly trustworthy hands means a lot. )