“I— don’t,” he admits with an awkward laugh, but warms to Gela with the openness of her reaction. “I did it once for a mission, and just sort of. …liked it.” Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, he offers her a fleeting, shy glance. This isn’t something he’d talk about with many, still sorting it out on a personal level.
“I think there will be people performing, though.”
Yes she can tell, and it's really nice. He looks very pleased with himself about it and tentatively happy, a far better look on him than what he wore when they were in the cells together.
"And you're going to watch. And think about joining in?" Who knows what will happen when you're a few drinks into a night, yes? "It sounds so fun, Benedict.
"We'd better make sure you look really good, then."
"I don't know about joining in," he scoffs with a self-effacing laugh, "nobody wants to hear me sing." He directs his gaze down to the waistline of the dress, smoothing the skirt beneath it.
"It will be fun." Spoken resolutely: a declaration, a command. "I'm sure you could go, if you wanted to see. Just don't expect me to be onstage." He flashes her a smile.
"Well now I'd like to hear you sing," Gela says cajolingly. "Maybe we should do something like that for Satinlia, this year, or any party. Singing, I mean, like choir."
Because it's nice. She's retrieving a cushion full of little pins and using an outstretched thumb and forefinger to measure the length of the ribbon. One eye squints shut, considering. "I'll come. Do I need anybody's name to get in? Or do I simply show up beautiful?"
"No you wouldn't," Benedict insists, but laughs, perching back against the edge of the desk as he watches her work. "You could try. Getting everyone to sing together. ...that I'd like to see." His grin is crooked. "Make it an official diplomacy assignment."
To her question, he shrugs. "I'm not actually sure, though you could mention knowing Byerly and Bastien, probably. They seem to know the crowd."
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“I did it once for a mission, and just sort of. …liked it.” Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, he offers her a fleeting, shy glance. This isn’t something he’d talk about with many, still sorting it out on a personal level.
“I think there will be people performing, though.”
no subject
"And you're going to watch. And think about joining in?" Who knows what will happen when you're a few drinks into a night, yes? "It sounds so fun, Benedict.
"We'd better make sure you look really good, then."
no subject
"It will be fun." Spoken resolutely: a declaration, a command. "I'm sure you could go, if you wanted to see. Just don't expect me to be onstage." He flashes her a smile.
no subject
Because it's nice. She's retrieving a cushion full of little pins and using an outstretched thumb and forefinger to measure the length of the ribbon. One eye squints shut, considering. "I'll come. Do I need anybody's name to get in? Or do I simply show up beautiful?"
no subject
"Make it an official diplomacy assignment."
To her question, he shrugs. "I'm not actually sure, though you could mention knowing Byerly and Bastien, probably. They seem to know the crowd."