[ As Abel extends a hand, Matt realizes he's still holding onto this freaking sword. Abruptly, he sets it to the side; it hangs in midair in the spot where his hands release it, leftover momentum sending it into a slow rotation. Very gently, Matt shakes Abel's hand back. ]
Father Nightroad. Abel. [ Not quite able to decide between the name that seems respectful and the one that feels natural, Matt goes with both. His lips twitch again, though this time the expression is more on the frowning end than smiling. Maybe it's to be expected when a(n irreconcilable?) difference of opinion rears its head, but he feels unsettled. ]
I have faith too, [ Matt says quietly. If he's aware how much of his discomfort is showing on his face, he's not inclined to hide it; he keeps looking right at Abel with those earnest, troubled eyes. ] I believe in a fresh start.
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Father Nightroad. Abel. [ Not quite able to decide between the name that seems respectful and the one that feels natural, Matt goes with both. His lips twitch again, though this time the expression is more on the frowning end than smiling. Maybe it's to be expected when a(n irreconcilable?) difference of opinion rears its head, but he feels unsettled. ]
I have faith too, [ Matt says quietly. If he's aware how much of his discomfort is showing on his face, he's not inclined to hide it; he keeps looking right at Abel with those earnest, troubled eyes. ] I believe in a fresh start.