[ Bastien smiles and gives a return tip of his head at Alexandrie's thanks, and then—shouldering through the invisible barrier his manners insist exists around them and the bed unless he's explicitly invited, because he was, before, by Alexandrie first and Byerly second, and since Byerly's invitation seemed to the problem he's not going to make him repeat it—sits down on Byerly's other side.
But on the edge, with his feet still on the floor, and not too close. Reaching Byerly's shoulders requires fully extending his arm. The bracing squeeze Bastien gives the back of his neck would look brotherly if not for the two seconds of lingering thumb-stroking, and before he lets go a tap-tap with the finger that signals that nothing is wrong, that everything is all right.
It's barely-conscious habit and not particularly hidden, not an effort to sign-whisper behind Alexandrie's back. He saw her, pulling herself together, and he's not sure whether to be glad or sorry for it. Either way, he doesn't want to give her any additional hurts swallow, if he can avoid it. ]
I think your cake would end up in the birds' curly ginger nests.
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But on the edge, with his feet still on the floor, and not too close. Reaching Byerly's shoulders requires fully extending his arm. The bracing squeeze Bastien gives the back of his neck would look brotherly if not for the two seconds of lingering thumb-stroking, and before he lets go a tap-tap with the finger that signals that nothing is wrong, that everything is all right.
It's barely-conscious habit and not particularly hidden, not an effort to sign-whisper behind Alexandrie's back. He saw her, pulling herself together, and he's not sure whether to be glad or sorry for it. Either way, he doesn't want to give her any additional hurts swallow, if he can avoid it. ]
I think your cake would end up in the birds' curly ginger nests.