[ Truly the funniest possible ending to the great tea sidequest is for there to in fact be no tea. At first Emmet works to get his legs underneath him, thinking to get up to help look too, but with Ingo's back turned to him, if just for a moment ... he's just going to let out a quiet sigh while he has the chance, gaze briefly flickering down and away, hopefully uncaught.
Slapdash, halting, clumsily, hastily; he's grieved. He's done it already, if privately, if reluctantly, if not entirely sure it even actually counted because he never actually could bring himself to believe Ingo was gone gone. He'd know, wouldn't he? Somehow? But the absence is still enough to count, at least where feelings are concerned, so he did. Took care of it, got it out of the way, pushed it aside, picked himself up to keep things running.
Why should he need to do it again here? Especially when Ingo is right there? Feeling sad, or angry at nothing in particular— isn't that what it would be? There's no need to mourn someone who isn't lost. So. ... So.
(If Ingo looks back before he manages to entirely school his expression, Emmet's smile is not quite as convincing as usual.) ]
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Slapdash, halting, clumsily, hastily; he's grieved. He's done it already, if privately, if reluctantly, if not entirely sure it even actually counted because he never actually could bring himself to believe Ingo was gone gone. He'd know, wouldn't he? Somehow? But the absence is still enough to count, at least where feelings are concerned, so he did. Took care of it, got it out of the way, pushed it aside, picked himself up to keep things running.
Why should he need to do it again here? Especially when Ingo is right there? Feeling sad, or angry at nothing in particular— isn't that what it would be? There's no need to mourn someone who isn't lost. So. ... So.
(If Ingo looks back before he manages to entirely school his expression, Emmet's smile is not quite as convincing as usual.) ]
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