[ It was a privilege no other inmate would have. Lyney has truly done nothing to earn it. He didn’t do something outrageous or beneficial to the Duke’s domain… all he’s done is smile. Laugh. Act like they were damn friends.
Or whatever else was better than the boy attempting to take him out for a transgression. ]
What about your nurse? Surely she would find it oh-so astonishing to have her dear Duke give a few jokes. Quite a thought — unusual, even. Like a dog walking on its hind legs.
[ A joke is letting her put a bandage on his face from that fight the other day. Seriously, it was a bruise. Maybe it gives her the same satisfaction as putting stickers on everything.
...He resolves not to tell Lyney about the stickers. Chances are he'll find out at some point, but no sense in giving him ammunition any earlier than he has to. ]
I'd tell you to get to bed already, but at this rate I'm not sure if your head will fit out the door. [ Long-suffering sigh. ] What's the hold up? Waiting for me to carry you there?
[ Sigewinne still speaks to Wriothesley like a superior, but there's leeway there too. A softness, but Lyney doesn't necessarily go the pessimistic route to a weakness. He has bad blood with the nurse, surely – he never forgets when someone 'outdoes' him, but... she is crucial here. A wheel that needs to keep spinning to keep this place functioning. Safe. Maybe one day he'll bug her for some information on the Duke, just to keep their little back and forth going. Always full of surprises. ]
Fine, fiiine. I know when my company isn't wanted. Suffering from success, what a pity. [ Lyney's fingers on his chin hide how tight he grits his teeth. The suggestion of carrying him to bed encourages a thought – the same one he had not long ago in that bed. Scarred hands against his frame, the difference in their size intimidating and alluring all the same... Lyney is a fan of petite girls like Lynette, but men? He's not sure.
Lyney shakes his head, standing up to where their knees barely brush together – just a second. A breathless huff, swallowed down with a laugh. ]
You really should learn how to treat a winner, though. Good to know how things run down here. Being carried would be fitting, but... I'll help you save face, Your Grace.
[ He turns, the heat in his face obvious and the pulse in his neck quickening. Why is he flushed? He kneels down a ways away, grabbing his boots and beginning to slip them on again. Frustrations bubble between them, but – that's all they are. ]
Let me know when you want a rematch. I aim to please.
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Or whatever else was better than the boy attempting to take him out for a transgression. ]
What about your nurse? Surely she would find it oh-so astonishing to have her dear Duke give a few jokes. Quite a thought — unusual, even. Like a dog walking on its hind legs.
no subject
...He resolves not to tell Lyney about the stickers. Chances are he'll find out at some point, but no sense in giving him ammunition any earlier than he has to. ]
I'd tell you to get to bed already, but at this rate I'm not sure if your head will fit out the door. [ Long-suffering sigh. ] What's the hold up? Waiting for me to carry you there?
no subject
Fine, fiiine. I know when my company isn't wanted. Suffering from success, what a pity. [ Lyney's fingers on his chin hide how tight he grits his teeth. The suggestion of carrying him to bed encourages a thought – the same one he had not long ago in that bed. Scarred hands against his frame, the difference in their size intimidating and alluring all the same... Lyney is a fan of petite girls like Lynette, but men? He's not sure.
Lyney shakes his head, standing up to where their knees barely brush together – just a second. A breathless huff, swallowed down with a laugh. ]
You really should learn how to treat a winner, though. Good to know how things run down here. Being carried would be fitting, but... I'll help you save face, Your Grace.
[ He turns, the heat in his face obvious and the pulse in his neck quickening. Why is he flushed? He kneels down a ways away, grabbing his boots and beginning to slip them on again. Frustrations bubble between them, but – that's all they are. ]
Let me know when you want a rematch. I aim to please.