[ Bastien tucks that smile into his memory for safekeeping, while his own goes a little softer—it’s the post-war, it’s the our. It’s that he’s already decided the next time he is in Val Royeaux he will sell his remaining assets and close his accounts, closing the door for good on Edouard Almary and his suffocating game of pretend. ]
We would be amazing. Hungry, probably, but amazing.
[ He extends his leg again, this time only far enough to put the arch of his foot on By’s kneecap and push it to and fro in a sweeping wobble, like holding hands and swinging arms. ]
Do you like what you do now? [ A little entreating, because he doesn’t think it was his doing, that By agreed to the position, and certainly not his doing that he was offered it. But he did encourage it. ] At all?
no subject
We would be amazing. Hungry, probably, but amazing.
[ He extends his leg again, this time only far enough to put the arch of his foot on By’s kneecap and push it to and fro in a sweeping wobble, like holding hands and swinging arms. ]
Do you like what you do now? [ A little entreating, because he doesn’t think it was his doing, that By agreed to the position, and certainly not his doing that he was offered it. But he did encourage it. ] At all?