Sadly, Armand was still hungry when the nurse came to take him to the next activity. At his request, she left him in the same chair in the Sun Room that he'd occupied in the morning. He never seemed to see the other rooms, something that he was certain would get him in trouble someday. For today, the staff seemed to understand he was in pain and out of sorts from his hurt hands.
So he was content to sit in the afternoon sun that streamed in through the skylights as he looked for the man he'd arranged to meet. He had no idea what to expect, but somehow he had a feeling this wouldn't go any better than his meeting with Hitsugaya had gone so many days ago. Even now he could see the deceptively young looking little fellow sitting on one of the other couches, busily scribbling notes.
Armand had to harden his heart against the pang of guilt. He had no reason to feel shunned and excluded by anything Hitsugaya had done. Armand himself had declined to take up with the leader to avoid both having to lie about his own honor and risking his rejection. It still hurt. The Arts & Crafts Club seemed to be getting things done. His own little group of night comrades couldn't quite say the same thing.
As a potential leader, Citan Uzuki left much to desire in that he never seemed willing to advance his own ideas. Morrison seemed more likely to fit the mold but again, his training as a subordinate worked against his taking the lead. And Armand knew in his bones that he was no leader himself, not unless where one wanted to be led was to dishonor and disaster. When he was feeling well, Armand knew that he could keep details in his head better than most gave him credit. But his mind tended to scatter under stress.
Damn.
Now he had nothing to do but wait with his own sour, brooding reqrets.
no subject
Sadly, Armand was still hungry when the nurse came to take him to the next activity. At his request, she left him in the same chair in the Sun Room that he'd occupied in the morning. He never seemed to see the other rooms, something that he was certain would get him in trouble someday. For today, the staff seemed to understand he was in pain and out of sorts from his hurt hands.
So he was content to sit in the afternoon sun that streamed in through the skylights as he looked for the man he'd arranged to meet. He had no idea what to expect, but somehow he had a feeling this wouldn't go any better than his meeting with Hitsugaya had gone so many days ago. Even now he could see the deceptively young looking little fellow sitting on one of the other couches, busily scribbling notes.
Armand had to harden his heart against the pang of guilt. He had no reason to feel shunned and excluded by anything Hitsugaya had done. Armand himself had declined to take up with the leader to avoid both having to lie about his own honor and risking his rejection. It still hurt. The Arts & Crafts Club seemed to be getting things done. His own little group of night comrades couldn't quite say the same thing.
As a potential leader, Citan Uzuki left much to desire in that he never seemed willing to advance his own ideas. Morrison seemed more likely to fit the mold but again, his training as a subordinate worked against his taking the lead. And Armand knew in his bones that he was no leader himself, not unless where one wanted to be led was to dishonor and disaster. When he was feeling well, Armand knew that he could keep details in his head better than most gave him credit. But his mind tended to scatter under stress.
Damn.
Now he had nothing to do but wait with his own sour, brooding reqrets.