[He smiles, a little, a weak and lopsided thing. His features look softer for it, the angles of his face seeming more delicate somehow in the dim light of his home in the middle of the night.]
Of course I do.
[There's no hesitation in his answer; he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. But she will want more explanation than that, he knows, so he continues as he arranges crackers and cheese upon a plate.]
They are important to you, are they not? You've poured so much of your time and energy into nurturing them, and they've responded in kind by growing and blooming so beautifully. It would be a shame for all that effort to go to waste.
[Albeit the suggestion is not made because he's that worried about the plants and their well being in and of themselves. He does think it would be a shame if they were left to wither on their own, but it's really their effect on Zelda that he's most concerned with. Surely caring for them would serve as a distraction from her grief, and perhaps their presence might aid in reminding her that there are those that need her here, in Songerein, too.
(Since his own doesn't seem to be sufficient in that regard, he thinks, and hates himself all the more for it.)
The food preparations do not take long, and he sets the plate down on the table in front of Zelda before taking a seat on the couch next to her. He does not blatantly impose himself in her space, but the fact that he sits close enough for her to comfortably lean on him should she so choose is an invitation in its own right.]
... Though I fear I did have to enlist the assistance of one with more expertise in such matters. [Aerith would probably tease him for talking about her like that, which just serves to make him feel even more bashful about admitting it.] I... did not wish to accidentally ruin your hard work with my ignorance.
[He definitely did not allow Aerith in the house, not that it makes him feel much better about the breach of privacy. But, as much as he has learned about gardening and plant care helping Zelda every now and then, he's certain he would not have been able to give them all the proper kind of care without guidance. If Zelda's upset with him for it, that's fine; it's surely better than her waking up to find all the things she nurtured dying or dead.]
no subject
Of course I do.
[There's no hesitation in his answer; he says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. But she will want more explanation than that, he knows, so he continues as he arranges crackers and cheese upon a plate.]
They are important to you, are they not? You've poured so much of your time and energy into nurturing them, and they've responded in kind by growing and blooming so beautifully. It would be a shame for all that effort to go to waste.
[Albeit the suggestion is not made because he's that worried about the plants and their well being in and of themselves. He does think it would be a shame if they were left to wither on their own, but it's really their effect on Zelda that he's most concerned with. Surely caring for them would serve as a distraction from her grief, and perhaps their presence might aid in reminding her that there are those that need her here, in Songerein, too.
(Since his own doesn't seem to be sufficient in that regard, he thinks, and hates himself all the more for it.)
The food preparations do not take long, and he sets the plate down on the table in front of Zelda before taking a seat on the couch next to her. He does not blatantly impose himself in her space, but the fact that he sits close enough for her to comfortably lean on him should she so choose is an invitation in its own right.]
... Though I fear I did have to enlist the assistance of one with more expertise in such matters. [Aerith would probably tease him for talking about her like that, which just serves to make him feel even more bashful about admitting it.] I... did not wish to accidentally ruin your hard work with my ignorance.
[He definitely did not allow Aerith in the house, not that it makes him feel much better about the breach of privacy. But, as much as he has learned about gardening and plant care helping Zelda every now and then, he's certain he would not have been able to give them all the proper kind of care without guidance. If Zelda's upset with him for it, that's fine; it's surely better than her waking up to find all the things she nurtured dying or dead.]