Growing faintly shy under the compliment, the lass gave a narrow shake of her head. "Just... doing my part. We've all got to look after each other here." Both as guests at the party and more broadly as residents of this dream world.
But she was hardly expecting her newfound companion to remove his mask, and even less prepared for what was underneath. Stopping short, Naminé straightened in place, eyes fluttering wider open underneath her own mask - because she knew that face, and all too well. Zexion may not have overseen her directly, but she had at least enough knowledge of the Organization and the goings on in Castle Oblivion to recognize him immediately.
"You--..." she said late, a little weakly, after he'd already responded so considerately to her offer. Her mind was abuzz with confusion, concern, even fear; so much so that she was hardly able to process that smile of his, bizarrely out of place as it looked to her. Wilting back into her seat, Naminé only became aware of her gaping when the plate in her hands tapped against the table, the beignets sagging to one side of it.
That seemed to shake her out of her stupor, and from there she was able to recover more completely, swallowing the lump in her throat as she hesitated. Letting go of the plate so that it could rest properly on the tablecloth, the girl curled her hands together, then finally shook her head more firmly than before.
"You-- don't have to do that," she finally continued, as if she hadn't just taken on a look as if she'd seen a ghost. "It really isn't any... anything."
... No matter who he was, she'd already given her word. Besides all that, she'd heard from the others that some of the Organization members had come over to their side. That did leave the question of when he was from - before or after - but...
"Please," she said at last, extending one arm to hold out her hand, palm upturned. Though she regarded him cautiously over it, her voice was still kind with her, "Take my hand?"
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But she was hardly expecting her newfound companion to remove his mask, and even less prepared for what was underneath. Stopping short, Naminé straightened in place, eyes fluttering wider open underneath her own mask - because she knew that face, and all too well. Zexion may not have overseen her directly, but she had at least enough knowledge of the Organization and the goings on in Castle Oblivion to recognize him immediately.
"You--..." she said late, a little weakly, after he'd already responded so considerately to her offer. Her mind was abuzz with confusion, concern, even fear; so much so that she was hardly able to process that smile of his, bizarrely out of place as it looked to her. Wilting back into her seat, Naminé only became aware of her gaping when the plate in her hands tapped against the table, the beignets sagging to one side of it.
That seemed to shake her out of her stupor, and from there she was able to recover more completely, swallowing the lump in her throat as she hesitated. Letting go of the plate so that it could rest properly on the tablecloth, the girl curled her hands together, then finally shook her head more firmly than before.
"You-- don't have to do that," she finally continued, as if she hadn't just taken on a look as if she'd seen a ghost. "It really isn't any... anything."
... No matter who he was, she'd already given her word. Besides all that, she'd heard from the others that some of the Organization members had come over to their side. That did leave the question of when he was from - before or after - but...
"Please," she said at last, extending one arm to hold out her hand, palm upturned. Though she regarded him cautiously over it, her voice was still kind with her, "Take my hand?"