[ It's an easy assurance, but one that seems to please him nevertheless — as ever, whenever she has reason to express her confidence in him. It bolsters the strange quasi-confidence he possesses otherwise, the constant undercurrent of insecurity briefly quieting as he thinks, in an echo, of course I won't need it.
And besides, the alternatives — to rebuffed or gently told her attentions will be elsewhere — are unthinkable. ]
There's my favorite letter, [ he says, as he looks down at the handkerchief. He has the sense to bow his head before accepting the offered favor, the shape of it falling over the ridge of his knuckles as his thumb traces over the raised letter.
He's stricken, suddenly, by the thought that this is the first time he's ever really exchanged gifts like this — the first time he's had a physical token of someone else's affection that meant something, rather than the fan letters and gifts sent to Vought Tower year after year. ]
Thank you. [ It comes out strangely, like he's unconvinced by the sound of the words on his own tongue — like he's not used to it or simply surprised (except- of course, of course she'd bestow her favor upon him, because who else would there be?). At the very least, he isn't thrown off by what the token is, having enough of an awareness of general courtly tradition through pop culture osmosis. ]
You know, I don't think— [ he hesitates, changes tack. ]
no subject
And besides, the alternatives — to rebuffed or gently told her attentions will be elsewhere — are unthinkable. ]
There's my favorite letter, [ he says, as he looks down at the handkerchief. He has the sense to bow his head before accepting the offered favor, the shape of it falling over the ridge of his knuckles as his thumb traces over the raised letter.
He's stricken, suddenly, by the thought that this is the first time he's ever really exchanged gifts like this — the first time he's had a physical token of someone else's affection that meant something, rather than the fan letters and gifts sent to Vought Tower year after year. ]
Thank you. [ It comes out strangely, like he's unconvinced by the sound of the words on his own tongue — like he's not used to it or simply surprised (except- of course, of course she'd bestow her favor upon him, because who else would there be?). At the very least, he isn't thrown off by what the token is, having enough of an awareness of general courtly tradition through pop culture osmosis. ]
You know, I don't think— [ he hesitates, changes tack. ]
I'll treasure it.