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In the morning, Sylvi's up first, having suffered no worse in her second chunk of sleep than eighteen-year-old Lu tripping and skinning her knee because the pet zebra she usually rode was getting reshod and she had to walk to the theater to meet her friends. Charp sets about making breakfast as soon as she stirs. It puts a kettle on to boil for Avedan's tea and fixes eggs and toast with jam for Sylvi. She reads more of her notes while the food cooks, and Charp delivers to her at her desk. It's all just how she likes it.
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if_at_first
"My lips are sealed. You will never find out. Except when your randomly selected anachronic dreams tell you."
if_at_first
"What mechanism of learning this information would be sufficiently unspoilered?"
do_over
Back to snuggling. Snuggle, snuggle.
(And slipping some toast, in the snuggles. Toast is important.)
(And slipping some toast, in the snuggles. Toast is important.)
if_at_first
"For reference, even if I get a week solid of nothing but Lu Is Sad Because Kidan Is Not Being Particularly Welcoming and I wake up sniffly, my advice says to let you be as prudish as you are inclined to be and I intend to follow it."
do_over
"I am extremely excited about them. Er. It's - not likely to be a problem where I kiss you when you don't want to be kissed?"