[Diarmuid feverishly wipes his eyes, looking embarrassed and shamed by himself. It is what it is, and he had always been an open person emotionally at the monastery and during his stay here, but for some reason... it just feels a little ugly, too discomforting in such a pleasant little cafe (and really, he doesn't want any of the people here with him to feel like they have something to worry about.
With a slightly calmer, softer air, he says sheepishly:]
When I broke things, Brother Oisín usually just sent me to bed fasting.
... I don't think it ever stopped me from getting into trouble later, though.
But — thank you. I will remember... especially when it comes to the difficulties of math. [He smiles weakly, looking to the book again, moving to open it and inspect the interior.] What is it about? These writings?
no subject
With a slightly calmer, softer air, he says sheepishly:]
When I broke things, Brother Oisín usually just sent me to bed fasting.
... I don't think it ever stopped me from getting into trouble later, though.
But — thank you. I will remember... especially when it comes to the difficulties of math. [He smiles weakly, looking to the book again, moving to open it and inspect the interior.] What is it about? These writings?