[The worn edges of Rhy's smile snag at his worry. Rhy, so often aglow with the confidence that things will turn out all right, usually plays the soother — not the one who needs to be soothed. To see him dimmed sets an ache in Wilhelm's chest. It's what he felt the first time he saw Erik cry, that big brother magic falling away.
Swallowing, Wilhelm busies himself with opening the bottle of wine. It takes a little negotiating with the knife, but eventually he pops out the cork. He offers the bottle to Rhy with a smile.]
First drink is yours.
[He doesn't bother asking about cups. This seems like a straight-from-the-bottle night.]
no subject
Swallowing, Wilhelm busies himself with opening the bottle of wine. It takes a little negotiating with the knife, but eventually he pops out the cork. He offers the bottle to Rhy with a smile.]
First drink is yours.
[He doesn't bother asking about cups. This seems like a straight-from-the-bottle night.]