[ —oh, paul. falco’s head just about doubletakes at the words. he’s bought drinks for them. he remembered falco’s fondness for a mug of foamy milk, independent of any cocoa thrown into the mix. what accompanies the boy’s smile is the thinning of his eyes, cheeks seeming to push into them as he hopes to keep the wetness dry (with the back of his free hand, so be it).
he doesn’t let go of paul for an instant. it felt like he’d disappear again if he did. ]
I can warm it for you— the tea. [ that also included a recipe born from a kitchen escapade, some days ago at the peter household. but he’ll keep that a surprise. ] I hope. . . You didn’t eat anything yet, either.
[ there was much to talk about, though he didn’t know where to exactly start.
perhaps they could start at their afternoon brunch. ]
no subject
he doesn’t let go of paul for an instant. it felt like he’d disappear again if he did. ]
I can warm it for you— the tea. [ that also included a recipe born from a kitchen escapade, some days ago at the peter household. but he’ll keep that a surprise. ] I hope. . . You didn’t eat anything yet, either.
[ there was much to talk about, though he didn’t know where to exactly start.
perhaps they could start at their afternoon brunch. ]