[Kell regrets his greediness the moment Wilhelm shoves at his shoulder. Inhales what he shouldn't and part laughs part cries through a coughing fit. Ends up doubling down in fit of giggles, wiping tears from his eyes as he tries to keep the rest of his cake away from the ground. He wheezes, finally being able to regain his breathing and some semblance of dignity. Enough at least to respond.]
Believe what you will. I really am.
[Kell's smile turns from mischievous to genuine, almost wistful. He'd been so angry at Rhy so often, and yet looking through his memories now, he misses those moments. Those were the good times. When they still were able to get into trouble and cause no more damage than a broken window, a couple of broken chairs and a few broken bones. Bad dog. Rhy called him once when he'd just tipped the chair under a drunkard who spoke ill of the heir to the throne, blissfully unaware said heir and his brother are there, listening.]
Mostly. The things he got us into were usually his ideas.
[Key word: usually. He can't, in good faith, pin it all on Rhy.]
no subject
Believe what you will. I really am.
[Kell's smile turns from mischievous to genuine, almost wistful. He'd been so angry at Rhy so often, and yet looking through his memories now, he misses those moments. Those were the good times. When they still were able to get into trouble and cause no more damage than a broken window, a couple of broken chairs and a few broken bones.
Bad dog. Rhy called him once when he'd just tipped the chair under a drunkard who spoke ill of the heir to the throne, blissfully unaware said heir and his brother are there, listening.]
Mostly. The things he got us into were usually his ideas.
[Key word: usually. He can't, in good faith, pin it all on Rhy.]