He reaches out to take the bottle from her and she has to force herself not to startle, though she makes careful of the fact that their hands don't touch. If they did, she'd probably drop the bottle entirely. He turns around and walks away, beckoning her to follow, and again the French leaves his lips so effortlessly and she can't help but hide a smile. She missed him so much it hurts.
The cold wind outside whips her hair about as they head to the car, and she can still barely believe this is happening. In the moments of silence her mind races, trying to pull together the words to say to him, to make sure that she knows what to do because this is all happening a lot sooner than she was prepared for. She hadn't expected to see him at all tonight, let alone be getting ready to explain the last four years. Her mind is exhausted and she's not confident that she's going to be able to do this properly in any language, let alone in English, but she has to try. He deserves it and she has to try for him, if this is what he wants.
Sylvie slides into the passenger seat and tucks her hands in her lap neatly, trying not to touch anything or be a nuisance. She feels so weird, like she's walking on eggshells around him, and it seems so wrong considering how much she never cared about that before. He's seen her at her best and at her worst, dressed up to the nines and waking up with bed hair, and yet here she is, worried that she'll make an idiot out of herself by sitting in his car wrong.
"This is already more than I expected, Shea," she says, honestly.
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The cold wind outside whips her hair about as they head to the car, and she can still barely believe this is happening. In the moments of silence her mind races, trying to pull together the words to say to him, to make sure that she knows what to do because this is all happening a lot sooner than she was prepared for. She hadn't expected to see him at all tonight, let alone be getting ready to explain the last four years. Her mind is exhausted and she's not confident that she's going to be able to do this properly in any language, let alone in English, but she has to try. He deserves it and she has to try for him, if this is what he wants.
Sylvie slides into the passenger seat and tucks her hands in her lap neatly, trying not to touch anything or be a nuisance. She feels so weird, like she's walking on eggshells around him, and it seems so wrong considering how much she never cared about that before. He's seen her at her best and at her worst, dressed up to the nines and waking up with bed hair, and yet here she is, worried that she'll make an idiot out of herself by sitting in his car wrong.
"This is already more than I expected, Shea," she says, honestly.