And on a different day, in a different mood, Oswald could have easily rolled his eye. But he's too needy now, too lonely, for any annoyance to stick, blessed with a rare patience that the throbbing of his leg is no match for, not right now. He blinks at Olga and then at the door to the study, bracing for whatever situation he's about to march himself into. Knocking first, with a tap of his knuckle, feels like the right thing to do.]
...A famous artist once said, one is company, two's a crowd, and three's a party. [His gaze falls on the jacket draped over the mirror as he shows himself in. Over a table are a few artfully arranged charcuterie platters and he considers them a moment, honest regret straining his expression when he turns to Ed.]
While, tonight, I cannot promise you a grand celebration worthy of our success, I can, at the very least, offer you my heartfelt gratitude once more... and some of my father's finest wine, if you're willing.
[The fire spits and crackles away, shadows dancing across the walls. He suddenly feels too big and too small for the room at the same time, his lashes trembling faintly and lips moving, shaping themselves around words he hasn't plucked out of the air yet.]
I missed you, Ed. [He says, finally. Swallowing.] More than I have in a very long time.
hope this works
And on a different day, in a different mood, Oswald could have easily rolled his eye. But he's too needy now, too lonely, for any annoyance to stick, blessed with a rare patience that the throbbing of his leg is no match for, not right now. He blinks at Olga and then at the door to the study, bracing for whatever situation he's about to march himself into. Knocking first, with a tap of his knuckle, feels like the right thing to do.]
...A famous artist once said, one is company, two's a crowd, and three's a party. [His gaze falls on the jacket draped over the mirror as he shows himself in. Over a table are a few artfully arranged charcuterie platters and he considers them a moment, honest regret straining his expression when he turns to Ed.]
While, tonight, I cannot promise you a grand celebration worthy of our success, I can, at the very least, offer you my heartfelt gratitude once more... and some of my father's finest wine, if you're willing.
[The fire spits and crackles away, shadows dancing across the walls. He suddenly feels too big and too small for the room at the same time, his lashes trembling faintly and lips moving, shaping themselves around words he hasn't plucked out of the air yet.]
I missed you, Ed. [He says, finally. Swallowing.] More than I have in a very long time.