Hawksley, as though he's out to prove that he can't be trusted, just says "Ack!" (yes, aloud) and hops the book a few inches from his hands to Grace's. She'd better catch it.
Okay, frankly, if she doesn't, Hawksley will. But he grins either way, abandoning the manual to Grace. He peers over her shoulder a bit, but frankly: this isn't his jam. It's hers. He knows it's hers. He knows none of them are going to be able to teach her like this, and because of that: he envies her. Oh, how he envies her.
With a pat on her back, he smiles again, warmer, almost fond, and heads back to Sera and Sid. Or starts to. And then he finds that Dissertations on Enochian Vowel Forms and makes a Murr? sound behind his tongue, halting his steps and reaching for the spine.
Okay, frankly, if she doesn't, Hawksley will. But he grins either way, abandoning the manual to Grace. He peers over her shoulder a bit, but frankly: this isn't his jam. It's hers. He knows it's hers. He knows none of them are going to be able to teach her like this, and because of that: he envies her. Oh, how he envies her.
With a pat on her back, he smiles again, warmer, almost fond, and heads back to Sera and Sid. Or starts to. And then he finds that Dissertations on Enochian Vowel Forms and makes a Murr? sound behind his tongue, halting his steps and reaching for the spine.
my whole life is thunder.