[Mitchell is the type to drink the same tea, day in and day out. Just regular PG Tips with a splash of milk and maybe half a teaspoon of sugar if he's having a really bad day. He likes the familiarity of it all; it hasn't changed since he was a boy, growing up a hundred years ago. Everything else in the world changes, but not tea.
Of course, he's willing to drink whatever Annie puts in front of him, weird herbal mixtures and the like, because it's Annie who makes it for him.]
Why don't we just start with the one, hm? [He comes up behind her and settles his hands on her hips, tentative for a moment before he slides his arms fully around her and tucks his chin over her shoulder, hugging her gently and pressing his lips to her sweater.]
[ In one of the cups, of course, is the tea he prefers, ready to steep as she pours out each mug. Her eyes stay fixed on her task for a moment before she feels his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his embrace. It's something she doesn't expect nor did she think he would ever give to her again (it's an overly dramatic thought but... it's Annie).
She lets out a soft, contented sigh at the feeling, her eyes closing for a moment as she sets the kettle back on the stove.] So am I. [ For pushing him, for making him feel like he had to do something that he couldn't, just to make her happy, to make her feel normal when that was the last thing they'd ever be.]
[It is overly dramatic, and the only reason it might have possibly come true was because Mitchell was convinced he wasn't allowed, not because he wouldn't want to.
He gets a little more comfortable against her, nuzzling a little at her shoulder and tucking his face in there once he's managed to dislodge the edge of her soft sweater, her hair tickling his face as he closes his eyes and just stands there hugging her.]
What a pair we make. It's a wonder George and Nina put up with us at all. [In fact, he's a little surprised he hasn't managed to incur Nina's wrath lately. She must be at the hospital or something.]
I suppose we're lucky they're not about. [ She isn't really sure where they are, more than likely out, away from the house for some time alone, which in turn, gave the two of them time alone. Her eyes close for a moment before she reaches for the milk to add a splash to the mug of tea she knows he'll pick.]
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Of course, he's willing to drink whatever Annie puts in front of him, weird herbal mixtures and the like, because it's Annie who makes it for him.]
Why don't we just start with the one, hm? [He comes up behind her and settles his hands on her hips, tentative for a moment before he slides his arms fully around her and tucks his chin over her shoulder, hugging her gently and pressing his lips to her sweater.]
I'm sorry.
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She lets out a soft, contented sigh at the feeling, her eyes closing for a moment as she sets the kettle back on the stove.] So am I. [ For pushing him, for making him feel like he had to do something that he couldn't, just to make her happy, to make her feel normal when that was the last thing they'd ever be.]
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He gets a little more comfortable against her, nuzzling a little at her shoulder and tucking his face in there once he's managed to dislodge the edge of her soft sweater, her hair tickling his face as he closes his eyes and just stands there hugging her.]
What a pair we make. It's a wonder George and Nina put up with us at all. [In fact, he's a little surprised he hasn't managed to incur Nina's wrath lately. She must be at the hospital or something.]
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Sugar?