“Oh, it was all Bentley,” Tybalt proclaimed, bouncing him up solemnly in his lap for a moment and giving Elsie a magisterial look. “He’s a real prodigy in the kitchen, you know. Did everything himself. Didn’t you, Ben?” he asked, as Bentley made a surprise swipe for the nearest snack.
Bundling him onto his other knee, he paused in all the teasing to take in Elsie’s quiet smile and return it. Her sigh said even more than her words, and he felt a well of sentiment somewhere deep in him. His look turned a little more longing. (As if having her sitting two feet away was as much suffering as he had ever had to do; still, sometimes reality was still hard to believe.)
He reached over for one of the platters (all those feelings, and he still had room to be hungry, naturally), and looked at her from under his lashes, biting back a grin. “Glad you like it, though. It was supposed to be a proper surprise party, but apparently the hundred other people I invited are all running late.”
Bundling him onto his other knee, he paused in all the teasing to take in Elsie’s quiet smile and return it. Her sigh said even more than her words, and he felt a well of sentiment somewhere deep in him. His look turned a little more longing. (As if having her sitting two feet away was as much suffering as he had ever had to do; still, sometimes reality was still hard to believe.)
He reached over for one of the platters (all those feelings, and he still had room to be hungry, naturally), and looked at her from under his lashes, biting back a grin. “Glad you like it, though. It was supposed to be a proper surprise party, but apparently the hundred other people I invited are all running late.”
