Hushed Willows if we never make it back to california i want you to know i love you

if delight could read lily's concerns he could make some attempt at apology -- it is not lily specifically who he tries to shut out, but he cannot help being opaque. dancing around the edges of what he wants to say is second nature -- he does not have it in him to be open. very few can coax a blunt truth from him; maybe seabreeze, rarely alarian. jomyo, strangely, and at moments queenie, when she shocks it out of him, but even then they come with blades embedded.

but he can't read minds, and so: "we could all use a little more happiness," delight agrees, drawing a smile. less pleasant is the return to the topic of his daughters, though of course he does not feel ungrateful for the promise, and so he mumbles "thank you," again, his own gaze returning briefly to mali's sullen form. do his children hate him, he wonders, for the chaos he has unintentionally made of their lives? there'd been -- ha, no, there'd never been a plan, just delight fumbling in the dark. it doesn't make it any easier, though.

"i think it's time to rest," he says, voice soft -- ostensibly about poor mali, though he is the one about to collapse from fatigue, and it shows in his face. gently the androgyne moves towards his son, to nudge him toward -- well, "maybe -- would you mind showing me to the dens?" delight asks sheepishly, something of a wincing smile pinching his features momentarily inward.