(no subject)

[regulus]

[Adequate Boxing Day recovery requires tea, a good book, and a comfortable armchair in which to curl up in. Regulus appears to have supplemented his own experience with nicotine, and the Room has offered up a plate of biscuits which he has yet to touch. All of this, unfortunately, has done nothing to stop him from looking as though there were lumps of coal in his Christmas stocking.]

What absolute rot.

Comments

[pridegoesbefore]

You'll find they intertwine far more than we'd like.

[regulus]

Perhaps. At least, if it were all the head, I could find a way to switch off these silly fantasies for good.

[pridegoesbefore]

There's nothing wrong with fantasy, sweetheart. Nothing at all.

Sometimes it's the only thing you have to hold on to.

[regulus]

I feel as though I spend most of my life, living in fantasy.

[pridegoesbefore]

...don't we all.



Well. Shall we have some tea?

[regulus]

I could do with some to invigorate me.

[pridegoesbefore]

And perhaps some petit fours, too.

[regulus]

That would be perfect.

[pridegoesbefore]

Mm. I've my moments.

[regulus]

Frequently occurring moments, I should add.

[pridegoesbefore]

[Have a delighted smile as she pours for two.]

[regulus]

[As long as you'll have the terribly content on on Regulus' face.]

That tea smells divine.

[pridegoesbefore]

[But of course.]

Mm. This room has good taste in tea.