[ Byerly's wiggling and invitation broaden Bastien's smile, while he's unfastening his boots one-handed. A swell of grateful affection, manifested in eye-crinkles. But when he stands to step out of them, Alexandrie is unmoving, and the smile smooths out.
Perhaps she's uncomfortable; she'd seemed to silently suggest something far saucier than sharing blankets and breakfast, not long ago, but they did just share a dream where Bastien was instrumental in kidnapping her, binding her, and drugging her. It would be fair. Perhaps it's to do with what she said before, that she was jealous, but he can't imagine in the moment what she might be jealous of. Perhaps she feels the way Bastien sometimes feels—the way he spent the whole walk up the stairs trying to convince himself not to feel. That he's the guest here, that Byerly belongs to her, that when she shares she is generous and when he asks he is presumptuous and when he takes outright he is a thief. Or perhaps—
There's no time to consider every option before his pause becomes awkward, and if it becomes awkward then that's one more step toward his inclusion—here now, or in general—becoming a problem for them that seems most easily solved by not including him anymore. So he steps out of the first of his boots and says lightly, ]
Too many blankets for me, Byerly. [ Fully dressed as he is, anyway. It could be true. ] I would melt.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-02-16 01:40 am (UTC)Perhaps she's uncomfortable; she'd seemed to silently suggest something far saucier than sharing blankets and breakfast, not long ago, but they did just share a dream where Bastien was instrumental in kidnapping her, binding her, and drugging her. It would be fair. Perhaps it's to do with what she said before, that she was jealous, but he can't imagine in the moment what she might be jealous of. Perhaps she feels the way Bastien sometimes feels—the way he spent the whole walk up the stairs trying to convince himself not to feel. That he's the guest here, that Byerly belongs to her, that when she shares she is generous and when he asks he is presumptuous and when he takes outright he is a thief. Or perhaps—
There's no time to consider every option before his pause becomes awkward, and if it becomes awkward then that's one more step toward his inclusion—here now, or in general—becoming a problem for them that seems most easily solved by not including him anymore. So he steps out of the first of his boots and says lightly, ]
Too many blankets for me, Byerly. [ Fully dressed as he is, anyway. It could be true. ] I would melt.