[Nikos, sitting on the low half wall some distance away, offers this deeply helpful critique. He's fine. It's a little too sunny for his taste, out here in the courtyard, but Caspar had suggested practicing at this out of doors, that it might be good for a change of pace.
So Nikos had cooperated with that suggestion. Grumbled, acted as if he wouldn't show up, purely on principal, but cooperated.
He has known Caspar for three years now. He could give an exact account of the date, but it wouldn't be the grand romantic gesture that it might seem, it would instead be Nikos, good with dates and figures and numbers. Nikos, who does (despite how he professes to be suspect of romance) remember the first time that he saw Caspar Perakis. He went home and wrote a letter to Marisol about it.
But now they have known each other three years. Training at knives for the better part of a year, but still, Caspar can look clumsy when holding the blade. And clumsy looks strange on Caspar. It doesn't fit his frame, or any part of him. Nikos could, almost, feel superior. But he doesn't, and isn't. Instead he takes another sip of wine from the cup he had brought out here--because it is always better to be drunk--and gestures with it.]
also romantic dates learning how to use daggers
[Nikos, sitting on the low half wall some distance away, offers this deeply helpful critique. He's fine. It's a little too sunny for his taste, out here in the courtyard, but Caspar had suggested practicing at this out of doors, that it might be good for a change of pace.
So Nikos had cooperated with that suggestion. Grumbled, acted as if he wouldn't show up, purely on principal, but cooperated.
He has known Caspar for three years now. He could give an exact account of the date, but it wouldn't be the grand romantic gesture that it might seem, it would instead be Nikos, good with dates and figures and numbers. Nikos, who does (despite how he professes to be suspect of romance) remember the first time that he saw Caspar Perakis. He went home and wrote a letter to Marisol about it.
But now they have known each other three years. Training at knives for the better part of a year, but still, Caspar can look clumsy when holding the blade. And clumsy looks strange on Caspar. It doesn't fit his frame, or any part of him. Nikos could, almost, feel superior. But he doesn't, and isn't. Instead he takes another sip of wine from the cup he had brought out here--because it is always better to be drunk--and gestures with it.]
Your elbow especially. You always drop it.
['Always'. But he does.]