closed psl.

[untodeath]

[ Word travels fast around the office. By the time Grell had returned from her shift to submit the appropriate paperwork, a secretary had already asked her if she'd been by to check on Mister Spears.

Now, she had known that he had been sent on an investigative mission with Ronald earlier that day, so she immediately assumed the worst. Demanding to know where to find them sent her bolting off to the lower levels. The new recruits were smart enough to dash out of the way - and some of them even directed her to the appropriate department; the optometrist's office, where she found William sulking in the lobby.

The poor man was without his glasses, but aside from a scuffed cheek and some healing bruises, appeared to be in one piece. It was his pride that seemed wounded, as the very air about him seemed heavy. ]

Oh, Will.

[ Heaving a sigh of relief, she sinks down into the chair beside him. Though knowing fully well that he won't like it, she won't be kept from fussing over him; reaching out to gingerly dash back some of his hair left mussed by his scuffle, while taking a good look at his wounds. ]

What did I tell you about taking care of your glasses, mm?

Comments

[untodeath]

Really?

[ Yeah, she doesn't sound super convinced - especially since she had been speaking sarcastically, and he's taken her to be absolutely serious. ]

You don't get even some sense of release about it? [ Okay, old habits, etc - so she'll clarify: ] Stress relief, perhaps?

[death_glare]

What I would prefer is if you didn't stress me out, to begin with.

[ With a huff, he reclaims his mug. The tea's gotten a bit cold now, so he only takes a single sip. ]

I thought we were having a calm and enjoyable conversation earlier. Is that not preferable to you?

[untodeath]

If it weren't for me, I fear you'd be stuck in your head.

[ Now it's her turn to huhim? Though, there's something that completely changed her mood-- ]

... You'd been enjoying yourself, hm?

[death_glare]

[ William opens his mouth to comment on the first statement Grell made, but she's right and anything he says on the subject will just prove it more. He sticks to ignoring it and answers her question, instead. ]

More than I'd expected to, considering the day I've had.

[untodeath]

[ Shame that William won't be able to see the very satisfied little smile that brings her. Cheeks rosy, she's tucking some hair behind her ear while raising her mug to her lips. She'll just bask in that while taking a sip of her tea, affording him a moment of quiet. ]

Well-- I've been enjoying it, too.

[death_glare]

[ William nods. He'd have a hard time believing she wouldn't, considering how he seems to be able to do no wrong around her. He looks down to his cup where his tea is nearly finished. ]

We really don't know much about one another, do we? Especially considering how long it's been since we graduated from academy.

[untodeath]

[ While she hums in agreement, it seems clear that the fact really bumps her out. ]

Not for a lack of trying, mind.

[death_glare]

[ He assumes she means on her end. He certainly hasn't put much effort into it, what with being so stubborn about work being only that, and hardly even having the time to interact with his colleagues outside of work, if he so choosed. ]

Yes, well. Perhaps this is the only good thing to come of having my glasses mangled. [ He pauses. ] Is there anything you wanted ask me?

[untodeath]

[ Grell leans in, brow raised. ]

Anything? Or are we to maintain the polite conversation?

[death_glare]

[ William just gives her an icy cold glare that perfectly conveys his answer. ]

[untodeath]

[ Breathing a chuckle, she shrugs to herself. At least she asked. ]

Fine, then. Shallow questions, it is. [ Finishing off the last of her tea, she scoots the mug away from her. ] What sort of books do you enjoy?

[death_glare]

Non-fiction, mainly. I find most fiction novels try too hard to "fix" reality. Many create dilutions of happiness by finding perfect solutions to completely remedy any hardships the protagonists encounter.

I'm not keen on giving myself false hopes such as those.

[untodeath]

Not all fiction is so delusional! What of tragidies, such as Shakespeare?

[ Although, she finds his answer to be very intriguing, actually - not that she agrees. ]

[death_glare]

Those can be equally depressing. They just do little to hide that fact.

[untodeath]

[ Grell hums in acknowledgement. After all, she doesn't intend to argue his views. There are some truth to them, anyway. ]

What is it that you turn to, then? Biographies?

[death_glare]

Mainly, yes. How about yourself, then? I take it Shakespeare is on your list?

[ He won't say his work is bad, but it's not something he readily enjoys. ]

[untodeath]

Mn, yes, he's among my favorites!

[ Tucking her hands beneath her chin, Grell closes her eyes in bliss, just thinking about his work. ]

He's written something for just about every occasion, you know. I've been turning to his sonnets, as of late; they're quick, but equally delightful reads.

[death_glare]

Hm. Perhaps if I cannot find something else, I will look into them.

[ The aspect of them being quick reads is what he finds most appealing. Given how little time he has to devote to the hobby, as it is. ]

What would you say is your favorite of his many works?

[untodeath]

Oh-- now, that is a difficult question.

[ With a quiet gasp, Grell sits back to stare at the ceiling contemplatively! ]

Among his plays, I would say.. Macbeth! Although, Titus Andronicus is worth mentioning, for entertainment value. [ She hums, nodding with confidence. ]

As for his sonnets-- Well, I might actually recall this one from memory.

[ She clears her throat. ]

The expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action, and, till action, lust
Is perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,
Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,
Enjoyed no sooner but despised straight,
Past reason hunted, and no sooner had
Past reason hated as a swallowed bait
On purpose laid to make the taker mad;
Mad in pursuit and in possession so,
Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme,
A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe,
Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.
All this the world well knows, yet none knows well
To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.

[ And, quite pleased with herself for remember it in full, she clasps her hands with laughter under her breath! ]

[death_glare]

[ William remains silent, allowing Grell the stage. Her voice - all the inflections and dramatics, they really give life to the words. And the subject matter, well, William can plainly see why she enjoys it. ]

How perfectly suited to you.

[untodeath]

[ Grell chuckles. ]

I'll take that as a compliment.

[death_glare]

Unsurprising.

[ Suddenly, there's a rather audible growling of William's stomach. It interrupts anything he was going to say further! William automatically looks to his watch, assuming it must be his usual dinner time (when he's able to plan that far ahead). Though, of course, all he sees is a blur of black and white. ]

[untodeath]

[ Well, THAT has Grell wincing a bit. ]

Oh dear... I suppose you might wish to put off our search a little longer, in favor of fetching some food, mm? You certainly won't want me cooking, if you couldn't stomach my tea...

[death_glare]

[ The idea of what would happen to both his stomach and kitchen, should Grell cook him something has a rather sour expression forming on William's face. He forcefully shakes his head. ]

No. You are not cooking anything.

[ William stands from the table, carefully making his way towards where he knows the pantry door is. If he can recall what he had on hand, maybe he can piece something together that would be easy enough to make by himself. ]

[untodeath]

[ Closing her eyes, Grell lightly huffs. It's a valid concern that he has, but... still!

It isn't long before her own concerns outweigh the though, though; watching him pat around like that, she's fairly confused, until he gets into the pantry. ]

Will, you're only going to hurt yourself! Why don't you just tell me what you want, and we'll go get it?

[ Out of her seat, now, she insistently lays a hand on his arm. ]