The Hidden General

Gym made sense. Studying, too. Sharon managed only to blink out of a nod when he finished his explanation of why he did not study much. Her mouthed opened, wanting to express her surprise in words. She had not known the children Biocybera stole were taught anything other than well, how to be a soldier. Basics were important everywhere, of course, but not everyone shared her opinion.

She closed her lips without speaking though, when his eyes sought refuge elsewhere. If he had meant to admit that, he clearly did not want any fuss made. And if he had not meant to say it… Sharon could not tell either way, but she knew that wandering look and quick finish into silence well enough to swallow her words until she knew this young man better.

Thankfully, he moved away from it himself, rather than leaving the moment hanging, and she breathed out her held breath. That might well have been a ruined conversation otherwise. They were littered throughout silences, she knew, but it still would have been troublesome so soon into her attempt at breaking that silence.

His admission made her smile widely, perhaps a little too widely, in relief. “I can certainly help you with cooking. I have many old and new recipes you might try, if you like. And if they are not telling you about. balancing books in school, you might ask Isaac, he has managed our household very well.” She had no complaints, at the least, and was currently eager to please. Trying, very hard, not to ask if he had ever considered skipping ahead a grade or two if he already knew what they were teaching him. Later, when he was more comfortable with her and she with him. Later. It was always later, but better than saying never.

“If you want seconds,” his bowl was nearing empty, and he had not slowed a bit until she asked her question, so she assumed he was going to still be hungry when he finished, “please help yourself.”
 
Sid looked up at mention of seconds, then grinned. "Do you want more? Otherwise I might just eat the rest." His wide smile had no room for gloom as he stood. "I can bring the stuff over if you want." He flexed one arm playfully. "It won't break these guns."

He looked at her, his grin so wide and open it made him seem so much younger than he was. He began to walk towards the kitchen.

(Sorry it's short-- chit-chat doesn't really give a lot of bulk to posts. XD ))
 
“Oh, I could not eat another bite, thank you. Go ahead and eat as much as you want.” Shaking her head as his playful flexing, she smiled. But really, she could not have eaten any more than what she had already put in her bowl. She did not have much of an appetite, most days, even after a full day of cleaning.

His pleasure, or pleasant company, was certainly contagious, and his enthusiasm made her think that they might well just get along fine. She would have someone else to feed over the week days while her husband was away. And now, she teased back. “You will have competition tomorrow though. Isaac likes almost as much as you. Maybe you will have to arm wrestle for the leavings.”

(no worries, chatting doesn't need a lot of wording. :P)
 
(( Fair point. I just feel bad about long posts going short as conversations begin. XD Comes from trying to run with people who toss around terms like "literate" and "super literate". Blech. lol ))

Sid grinned. "Thanks." He began to dish the rest of the noodles up, careful to avoid spilling, then spoke up about Isaac. "I'll try to go easy on him." He snickered as he finished getting the noodles and then some sauce onto his plate, then put both dishes back into the kitchen. He returned to the table, eyes on his dish as he began to eat, careful to keep from getting sloppy. "I mean, these guns are as strong as they look." He absently tapped a bicep as he spoke between bites, too eager to eat to finish speaking all at once.

No, he hadn't been kidding about his appetite.
 
Sharon could not help herself then, at the thought that she might get to see just such a wrestling match. Isaac would, if challenged, probably happily oblige Sid, but she did not imagine that her husband, sturdy as he was, had the same strength as a youth as healthy and strong as Sid seemed. She laughed.

The sound was full throated for half a second before turning into a wheeze, but she managed to catch her breath quickly and stop the rest from escaping. She found laughter tended not to agree with her, it stole too much air from her lungs. But she liked to hear it nonetheless, and enjoyed a good session of teasing. Her smile did not fade away as Sid tucked in to his second helping, and the crowsfeet about her eyes were, if anything, even deeper.

“Leave him his pride, yes, but do not let him steal the last of every meal. We do not want a growing young man. going hungry under this roof.” With that said, she left him to it, so he might finish his meal without having to worry about talking with his mouth full, and picked at the last straggling noodles in her own bowl before settling back to finish her milk and enjoy having company over. Sid might well have been a stranger to her, but he was not a surly stranger, obviously, and was making an effort to get along. That was enough for her.
 
He laughed and nodded. "Alright." He beamed as he began to dig in, correctly assuming the conversation was over. He was a clean enough eater that his napkin remained unused until he used it at the end to clean his lips, leaving only a faint redness on it. He briefly tapped the side of his glass with his knife in what may have been an accident, then spoke.

"Thanks for the meal." The words came out almost automatically, though there was a sincerity to them—like someone who'd been urged to remember proper manners in a setting a bit different from the current.

He'd been a guest among enough Norwegian diplomats that he automatically remembered their manners.

The thought of those families who grudgingly served his mother—no, the Mistress—sobered his expression.

Why was it they hadn't reported what he looked like when his face was plastered everywhere by the army looking for his parents? The thought niggled at him, but he assumed there was some reason. At least now that the search for his fictional parents was over, he could maybe be forgotten...

He shook his head as he realized he'd been glaring a hole in the table. "Sorry. Just remembered something." He huffed softly, annoyed that he was still having unwanted memories resurface.