[Paul has been reluctant to have Falco in this house. He'd be lying if he were to say that he still isn't. It's not so much concern, any more - although that's always there, especially considering some of their resident guests - as it is the sense he has that Falco doesn't belong in a place like this. He suits his little cottage, not a sprawling mansion full of skeletons and secrecy.
But it became too much to keep saying no, especially as excuses ran dry. So this is the compromise that Paul makes with himself: Falco is welcome here, and Paul will simply never leave his side while he is.
This is, fortunately, not a wholly literal proposition, or else Paul wouldn't be able to get the eggs.]
The smaller ones?
[It should be an obvious distinction, since the one egg is larger than the bowl they're mixing batter in, but Paul is learning that one of the fundamentals of baking is even stricter precision than cooking.]
Or... [He glances at Falco with a slight smile, a hint of teasing.] Is it a confetti egg, for the confetti cake?
no subject
But it became too much to keep saying no, especially as excuses ran dry. So this is the compromise that Paul makes with himself: Falco is welcome here, and Paul will simply never leave his side while he is.
This is, fortunately, not a wholly literal proposition, or else Paul wouldn't be able to get the eggs.]
The smaller ones?
[It should be an obvious distinction, since the one egg is larger than the bowl they're mixing batter in, but Paul is learning that one of the fundamentals of baking is even stricter precision than cooking.]
Or... [He glances at Falco with a slight smile, a hint of teasing.] Is it a confetti egg, for the confetti cake?