And while Gen is hardly about to meekly agree to it, he also doesn't bristle in the face of what is essentially an order. It's unlike him to let an adult come so close to giving him a command without making some shitty comment in retort, but this time he lets it slide. When Eustace looks back to him, his gaze is fixed in a wary stare, making it clear that he'd heard those muttered words. But Gen otherwise has no response to give, that moment of eye contact serving as the only indication that he'd heard. But the tension in his shoulders does loosen just the slightest as he looks away.
(For some reason, holding those low words close to his chest permits some tiny crumb of relief. The thought that at least one person might permit him that weakness lets him breathe just a little easier.)
As for the question of food -- ]
What's good around here?
[ Maybe this, too, is a bit uncharacteristic. Gen's usually decisive to an almost obnoxious extent, and certainly not the type to look to others for recommendation. But glancing towards the restaurants strewn on either side of them, Gen looks vaguely troubled. The hand to his mouth muffles his words somewhat when he mumbles, ]
... I can't taste things right when I'm [ stressed, traumatized ] tired. Just pick whatever you want. I can eat anything.
no subject
Don't get used to it.
And while Gen is hardly about to meekly agree to it, he also doesn't bristle in the face of what is essentially an order. It's unlike him to let an adult come so close to giving him a command without making some shitty comment in retort, but this time he lets it slide. When Eustace looks back to him, his gaze is fixed in a wary stare, making it clear that he'd heard those muttered words. But Gen otherwise has no response to give, that moment of eye contact serving as the only indication that he'd heard. But the tension in his shoulders does loosen just the slightest as he looks away.
(For some reason, holding those low words close to his chest permits some tiny crumb of relief. The thought that at least one person might permit him that weakness lets him breathe just a little easier.)
As for the question of food -- ]
What's good around here?
[ Maybe this, too, is a bit uncharacteristic. Gen's usually decisive to an almost obnoxious extent, and certainly not the type to look to others for recommendation. But glancing towards the restaurants strewn on either side of them, Gen looks vaguely troubled. The hand to his mouth muffles his words somewhat when he mumbles, ]
... I can't taste things right when I'm [ stressed, traumatized ] tired. Just pick whatever you want. I can eat anything.