But Bastien’s eyebrows only tick up a millimeter above his smile, which has already brightened with bashful pleasure at being called handsome, and at being so freely and happily acknowledged as more than a friend, and before that when By took Nadine’s hands—something that made him glance over already, wanting to see his face. So there isn’t much room for his expression to brighten again before he’d look like a maniac.
“He’s wonderful. Kind and funny and daring and talented. I will swap you stories for stories, yeah?”
Royan, of course. But free of frills, with hints of the rougher streets. The way he talks to Byerly, the way he would talk to everyone if he weren’t trying to talk any other way. He wouldn’t let By put on a false accent for his family, so it’s only fair. Even with Benedict in the room.
To Winifred he adds, “And I know he has stories about your mother when she was small, for you.”
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But Bastien’s eyebrows only tick up a millimeter above his smile, which has already brightened with bashful pleasure at being called handsome, and at being so freely and happily acknowledged as more than a friend, and before that when By took Nadine’s hands—something that made him glance over already, wanting to see his face. So there isn’t much room for his expression to brighten again before he’d look like a maniac.
“He’s wonderful. Kind and funny and daring and talented. I will swap you stories for stories, yeah?”
Royan, of course. But free of frills, with hints of the rougher streets. The way he talks to Byerly, the way he would talk to everyone if he weren’t trying to talk any other way. He wouldn’t let By put on a false accent for his family, so it’s only fair. Even with Benedict in the room.
To Winifred he adds, “And I know he has stories about your mother when she was small, for you.”