thesmileclown:

mxrdrake:

“Neither would I, my friend. Neither would I.” For he had everything he had ever dared to dream of when dreams had been denied him. His gaze flitted briefly to the kitchen, as if longing to set his eyes upon her again, and quickly flitted away again. “I dare say my luck has improved greatly. I have spent near a century haunted by my loneliness and fear, only to come into the great wealth of your company.” 

When Elsa did return, however, he shifted to sit up straighter. “Sam, have you told Miss Elsa of your treasures, yet? The things you make?” It was an invitation to encourage Sam to speak of himself, of the things he prided himself on.

Told her? The clown shook his head. “No, not yet, but I’ve been working on something new. Well…another something new. I’m always coming up with something new,” he grinned, thinking on the various projected he had planned out for himself. He couldn’t help it really. He’d always been a busy body, and he had a habit of fidgeting that could only be dealt with by working with his hands.

It was obvious to anyone that heard him speak of them that it was one of his true passions. The way his features lit up was something that could not be hidden, and he did not try to. He turned Elsa, a childlike enthusiasm coming into his voice. “I make toys. Well…they are mostly toys. Little auto…automaton sort of things. I make them out of whatever I can get my hands on. I’ll have to show what I’ve made some time. And make you something of course.”

Soon, Elsa returned, holding a lovely little tablet with three cups of tea in her dainty hands. A warm smile appeared on her face at the sight of the two men. They were so different, yet so alike. Sam’s enthusiasm was enviable. Something Edward did not show often. But still, both of them, with different tales and lives, shared one thing not many people managed to keep through all this pain. Their kindness.

"Oh, that sounds very interesting, Sam,” the blonde admitted as she handed the clown his mug, wearing a warm smile on her face, “I would love to see what you’ve made. I’ve never been good at making things. I guess that is one of the reasons why I became a singer.” A soft laugh escaped her throat at this confession, shaking her head. Then, she turned to hand Edward the second cup of tea, before she sat down next to him, gracefully crossing her beautiful legs she was so proud of. “Have you made something for Edward yet? The two of you are truly talented artists, I must say.”