[ Did anyone win, he asks, and Sharon can't help the faint grimace that pulls at her expression. No, no one did. There wasn't a version of that situation where anyone walked away with a win, though the Order tried their very damndest. They didn't win, but they still managed to take everyone she'd loved from her.
Seishirou holds up the bowls like he's picking out fine china, and she gives a small nod, gesturing toward the drawer with the silverware. Spoons, forks—everything inside is heavy, well-made, the handles etched with delicate florals like someone once cared enough to choose them carefully. ]
Cool—me too. My adoptive mom picked it. [ She stops the timer just before it goes off, scooping out a bit of the starchy pasta water before draining the rest. The noodles go back into the pan, and she works quickly from there—powdered cheese, a splash of the reserved water, a shake of seasoning. ] I think it fits the blonde. [ She glances back toward him briefly. ] Sharon just... feels blonde, you know?
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Seishirou holds up the bowls like he's picking out fine china, and she gives a small nod, gesturing toward the drawer with the silverware. Spoons, forks—everything inside is heavy, well-made, the handles etched with delicate florals like someone once cared enough to choose them carefully. ]
Cool—me too. My adoptive mom picked it. [ She stops the timer just before it goes off, scooping out a bit of the starchy pasta water before draining the rest. The noodles go back into the pan, and she works quickly from there—powdered cheese, a splash of the reserved water, a shake of seasoning. ] I think it fits the blonde. [ She glances back toward him briefly. ] Sharon just... feels blonde, you know?
[ Rose had the same blonde hair. ]