[ The sweet little smile is instantly memorized and tucked away into Vash's mental catalogue to linger on fondly later; a precious gift he'll treasure when he never thought he would get to see Wolfwood smile in any kind of way ever again, much less that split-second of genuine surprised pleasure at being praised. (Vash will have to do that more often, maybe.) It's a wonderful image he can plaster over his very last memory of Wolfwood in which his face had been slack and eyes vacant in death. That he'll get to make any new memories at all is something he can't imagine he'll stop (perhaps selfishly) feeling thankful for regardless of what horrors this place might throw their way. He has his brother. He has his best friend. There's nothing else Vash could want. (Save perhaps to see one other person again, but that he doesn't even dare to hope for, not here.)
Wolfwood abruptly jumps to his feet and it leaves Vash to stare at him nonplussed from where he'd been ladling stew into the bowl. Fortunately his confusion doesn't last for long because of course Wolfwood would assume the worst of Methuselah. He should have known. The pang of fond exasperation he experiences almost makes him smile. Almost. ]
No, no, no, absolutely not! You sit back down right now.
[ Bowl expertly balanced on the tips of his fingers on one hand, Vash moves swiftly to put himself between Wolfwood and the way out of the kitchen, reaching out with his free hand to gently yet forcefully push him back down to sit on the stool. ]
I've known the man for months. Buried those dead with him, helped him prepare these feasts. He's been nothing but helpful and kind.
[ Yes, Methuselah can be secretive and withdrawn, not likely to give much in the way of answers, but his presence has been invaluable. So many more would not have survived without his helping hand and wisdom. Vash trusts him and there's no way he's letting Wolfwood confront him.
Instead Wolfwood gets the bowl pushed into his hands and a firm: ]
Here, just be good and eat your stew. I promise you Methuselah is not the cause for any of this.
no subject
Wolfwood abruptly jumps to his feet and it leaves Vash to stare at him nonplussed from where he'd been ladling stew into the bowl. Fortunately his confusion doesn't last for long because of course Wolfwood would assume the worst of Methuselah. He should have known. The pang of fond exasperation he experiences almost makes him smile. Almost. ]
No, no, no, absolutely not! You sit back down right now.
[ Bowl expertly balanced on the tips of his fingers on one hand, Vash moves swiftly to put himself between Wolfwood and the way out of the kitchen, reaching out with his free hand to gently yet forcefully push him back down to sit on the stool. ]
I've known the man for months. Buried those dead with him, helped him prepare these feasts. He's been nothing but helpful and kind.
[ Yes, Methuselah can be secretive and withdrawn, not likely to give much in the way of answers, but his presence has been invaluable. So many more would not have survived without his helping hand and wisdom. Vash trusts him and there's no way he's letting Wolfwood confront him.
Instead Wolfwood gets the bowl pushed into his hands and a firm: ]
Here, just be good and eat your stew. I promise you Methuselah is not the cause for any of this.