Strange that the feeling never quite faded, being here with her. They had known each other long enough, through enough, had been stealing around enough, that he really oughtn't need the affirmation any more that she did like him. (Not that Elsie was the sort of person to say, when she didn't, but even Tybalt would have caught a hint by now, and even the stretches of Elsie's politeness couldn't extend that far, if she didn't). But, as secure as the knowledge was, he couldn't lie that it wasn't always a burst of warmth to hear... Easy and natural and honest, like coming home, or something.
Sincerity of any of that kind was always more of an undercurrent, somewhere below the tide of teasing that was just too much fun to forgo: Elsie had her turn at it now, though he supposed he'd asked for it.
"Hey!" Tybalt protested, withdrawing his hand in mirth. "That can't be true..." he exclaimed, but he trailed off rather hastily as he realised his volume had also increased considerably in that one sentence of indignation. He clamped his own hand over his mouth in melodramatic apology, but that motion only brought on a laugh that he was thus forced to muffle, just as Elsie had a moment before.
She was right, of course. Being quiet was horribly difficult, as unrewarding an exercise as any, and that had made it rather effortless to get along with her little brother, since Owen evidently shared that opinion. Usually unrewarding, that was: here, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for Elsie's company - and it would be a noble pursuit, especially if they could keep this golden privacy. (Fortunately, he could think of an activity or two that could be even quieter than conversation.)
"Well, I can try to be quiet," Tyb allowed, with another small grin, "just for you. That's how much I love you."
Sincerity of any of that kind was always more of an undercurrent, somewhere below the tide of teasing that was just too much fun to forgo: Elsie had her turn at it now, though he supposed he'd asked for it.
"Hey!" Tybalt protested, withdrawing his hand in mirth. "That can't be true..." he exclaimed, but he trailed off rather hastily as he realised his volume had also increased considerably in that one sentence of indignation. He clamped his own hand over his mouth in melodramatic apology, but that motion only brought on a laugh that he was thus forced to muffle, just as Elsie had a moment before.
She was right, of course. Being quiet was horribly difficult, as unrewarding an exercise as any, and that had made it rather effortless to get along with her little brother, since Owen evidently shared that opinion. Usually unrewarding, that was: here, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for Elsie's company - and it would be a noble pursuit, especially if they could keep this golden privacy. (Fortunately, he could think of an activity or two that could be even quieter than conversation.)
"Well, I can try to be quiet," Tyb allowed, with another small grin, "just for you. That's how much I love you."
