[ Bastien lifts his chin to look back up at Byerly. ]
No. No, of course not.
[ Still oozing joy, but he can do it with less spinning: he moves his arms up, letter-holding hand draped over Byerly's shoulder, other hand on his beloved face, and beams at him. ]
It's good. It's great. She wrote to you! She wants you to write again. Look at everything she has given you to begin—her children. [ Byerly can't look; the letter is currently being held against his back, where Bastien's hand is dangling. But metaphorically. ] She could have kept them to a sentence at most if she wanted to keep you shut out of her family.
[ He lifts onto his toes to kiss By twice, once on each cheek. ]
no subject
No. No, of course not.
[ Still oozing joy, but he can do it with less spinning: he moves his arms up, letter-holding hand draped over Byerly's shoulder, other hand on his beloved face, and beams at him. ]
It's good. It's great. She wrote to you! She wants you to write again. Look at everything she has given you to begin—her children. [ Byerly can't look; the letter is currently being held against his back, where Bastien's hand is dangling. But metaphorically. ] She could have kept them to a sentence at most if she wanted to keep you shut out of her family.
[ He lifts onto his toes to kiss By twice, once on each cheek. ]
Don't send her sugar.