[ His smile tips wry, and it's a familiar look: it is Ozpin in the moments before retreat, before redirection. Quietly acknowledging a wound to himself, and just about to shy away.
But that would be terribly unkind after all he said to Qrow about his own willingness to open up. And it is only, in the end, talk of his romantic life. Surely he can bear something so ultimately mundane. ]
In a sense.
[ He sips his cocoa and perhaps they both pretend he isn't stalling. But Qrow knows when to let his silences breathe, and so he must continue: ]
It seems he and I only cross paths under dire circumstances, these days. [ The party had not been a dire circumstance; it feels like one, all the same. ] Strange to think that things had been simpler, in a way, when we lived in a dream.
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But that would be terribly unkind after all he said to Qrow about his own willingness to open up. And it is only, in the end, talk of his romantic life. Surely he can bear something so ultimately mundane. ]
In a sense.
[ He sips his cocoa and perhaps they both pretend he isn't stalling. But Qrow knows when to let his silences breathe, and so he must continue: ]
It seems he and I only cross paths under dire circumstances, these days. [ The party had not been a dire circumstance; it feels like one, all the same. ] Strange to think that things had been simpler, in a way, when we lived in a dream.