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[altusimperius]

tell him how pretty he is

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[cozen]

Bastien waits, vague smile unaltered until Benedict apologizes. Then it widens and he shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s true.”

Another thing that is sooooo fine.

“I can bring her along when I come to the Gallows tomorrow if you want an office dog for a couple of hours.”

[altusimperius]

That smile is almost more unnerving than if he'd gotten mad. Alarm bells are sounding in Benedict's brain, but to speak on them would be far worse than to let them be-- he's not prepared for that conversation, and may never be.

"...all right," he accepts, gently skating past that answer, because, in truth, "I'd like that."

[cozen]

"So would she," is, at least, a little wry — a touch of regret that his dog would prefer someone else's company — but in a friendly way.

It's paired with a tentative step back from the door. Now can he go? Yes? Great.

[altusimperius]

Benedict doesn't stop him, but offers a nod of acknowledgment and, wisely, doesn't throw any further salt in the wound.
That was cordial. Maybe it'll be all right.