[ Trahearne eats his cookie. Is he not allowed to tell Syrlya he loves him, then? Or ask for his hand to warm up?
He doesn't want to rely on Mishka for this. He really, really doesn't.
Idle disappointment swirls in him as the loud sound of the crunching of the cookie fills his mind. Thank the Pale Mother, he thinks, that Syrlya can't feel this.
Needless to say, he doesn't respond. Nor does he feel all that much warmer.
Well. He looks at Adelis's blurred reflection in his cup. He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. Maybe it's for the best. ]
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[ Trahearne eats his cookie. Is he not allowed to tell Syrlya he loves him, then? Or ask for his hand to warm up?
He doesn't want to rely on Mishka for this. He really, really doesn't.
Idle disappointment swirls in him as the loud sound of the crunching of the cookie fills his mind. Thank the Pale Mother, he thinks, that Syrlya can't feel this.
Needless to say, he doesn't respond. Nor does he feel all that much warmer.
Well. He looks at Adelis's blurred reflection in his cup. He doesn't know what his face looks like right now. Maybe it's for the best. ]