[That same terrible tightness has returned to his guts, reminiscent of when he faced the anger of Gabranth himself. His groveling is, at least, sincere: there’s an element of knowing he’s got to endure it and come out the other side, rather than wriggle out now and have to pay the piper later.]
[Though a dark look is cast Byerly's way, its origin perhaps not as clear as it may seem, Benedict slouches off to do just that.
It's several hours later that he returns, still very much in a sulk, but not as much of one as it might be if he hadn't managed to clean himself up properly after the ordeal-- his hair is still damp from the bath he took. He barely glances to Byerly as he finally sits down at his desk, determined to salvage some of the day. Or perhaps just making a point.
Should Byerly check his work at any point, he will find that the erstwhile chamberlain actually did a job up to his own standard, which is to say, the privies are all but sparkling.]
[With a little nod, Benedict lapses into silence and tries to focus on his work. He's exhausted, smarting from the recent succession of hits to his pride, and, worst of all, he realizes once again how much he cares what Byerly thinks of him.
It's not something he wants to vocalize, and inevitably worsen by shoving his own foot in his mouth-- instead, he resolves to simply get through the day without being a problem.
This manifests as hunching over his desk as if deep in concentration, allowing a gentle quiet to grow between them.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[If ever it were possible to just disintegrate, now would be the time.
At least he likes the coffee.]
no subject
no subject
Yes.
no subject
no subject
[That same terrible tightness has returned to his guts, reminiscent of when he faced the anger of Gabranth himself.
His groveling is, at least, sincere: there’s an element of knowing he’s got to endure it and come out the other side, rather than wriggle out now and have to pay the piper later.]
no subject
Maker, stop looking at me like I'm some grand bully persecuting you.
no subject
Now doesn’t seem like the time to get smart.]
I’m agreeing with you, [he says faintly.]
no subject
no subject
...how should I look.
[It's almost an earnest question.]
no subject
You're cleaning out the privies.
no subject
What?
no subject
no subject
[He can't stop himself from sneering at the thought, but it is what it is.]
...fine.
no subject
Get to it, then.
no subject
It's several hours later that he returns, still very much in a sulk, but not as much of one as it might be if he hadn't managed to clean himself up properly after the ordeal-- his hair is still damp from the bath he took.
He barely glances to Byerly as he finally sits down at his desk, determined to salvage some of the day.
Or perhaps just making a point.
Should Byerly check his work at any point, he will find that the erstwhile chamberlain actually did a job up to his own standard, which is to say, the privies are all but sparkling.]
no subject
[ At some point, By speaks, his voice bone-dry. ]
What did we learn?
no subject
If I poke someone in the eye again, you'll be the first to know.
[It strikes him as soon as the words leave his mouth that that was the wrong thing to say; with a touch more humility, he adds,]
...and I'm not going to.
no subject
Because if you do so, I'll be the one who gets screwed.
no subject
At least not overtly.]
...I know.
[Benedict chances a furtive, melancholy glance his way.]
I'm sorry.
no subject
Don't be sorry. Be smart.
no subject
It's not something he wants to vocalize, and inevitably worsen by shoving his own foot in his mouth-- instead, he resolves to simply get through the day without being a problem.
This manifests as hunching over his desk as if deep in concentration, allowing a gentle quiet to grow between them.]
no subject
The man said you acquitted yourself well.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)