( This has, slowly, become— playful? flirtatious? whatever it is, it's light and fun in a way that he never ever gets to experience anymore. Grace doesn't have a sense of humour (she was never programmed to); Reginald has even less; Pogo can be wry in a dusty sort of way, and he and Luther will occasionally trade a tongue-in-cheek comment, but it's a thin and paltry thing usually swallowed up by the dour silence of the house. Like subsisting on scraps, compared to what he'd once had with Allison.
So, most of the letter comes easily. Teasing. Jokes. Banter that isn't the same as bantering with her in-person, but it's the closest thing he can get right now, and thus the next-best thing.
But then. The last part. The last part (which does not come easily) is buried in the post-script, as if it's an afterthought; as if it's not the foremost thing at the front of his mind and haunting him, ever since Reginald received the invitation, and turned down the invitation, and then Luther had wrangled his way into taking it in his stead. The opening of a new science museum in Los Angeles. )
Dear Allison,
Good, because I actually told it to you to make you laugh. And look, that's a relief; I'm glad it didn't manage to hit the mainland media properly. It's the kind of ungraceful, not-quite-dignified incident that doesn't reflect well on the Academy, probably. I managed to persuade the reporter into cutting out the 'wardrobe mishap' comments from the eventual print interview, though, and for that I'm grateful.
Someone else probably would've had third-degree burns, but yeah, I was pretty much blister-red and lightly singed all over, and lobster-red from blushing. (I bet you're laughing again. Stop that.)
Critical answers, as promised: Morse is a bit more challenging now that I can't just knock on the wall. You'll probably need to install a telegraph in your home. And Disney Princess would fit you so well — remember when Mattel reached out to Dad about licensing that Barbie? — but I know you don't like being woken up too early, and I don't want the birds to die, so we might need to scratch that off the list.
- Luther
PS: Another critical question. What does your schedule look like the last week of this month? Are you going to be in town then?
I'm going to be passing through for an event, and if you're not too busy, I was thinking we could grab some coffee or something. I don't know. It might be nice. I miss y
no subject
So, most of the letter comes easily. Teasing. Jokes. Banter that isn't the same as bantering with her in-person, but it's the closest thing he can get right now, and thus the next-best thing.
But then. The last part. The last part (which does not come easily) is buried in the post-script, as if it's an afterthought; as if it's not the foremost thing at the front of his mind and haunting him, ever since Reginald received the invitation, and turned down the invitation, and then Luther had wrangled his way into taking it in his stead. The opening of a new science museum in Los Angeles. )
Good, because I actually told it to you to make you laugh. And look, that's a relief; I'm glad it didn't manage to hit the mainland media properly. It's the kind of ungraceful, not-quite-dignified incident that doesn't reflect well on the Academy, probably. I managed to persuade the reporter into cutting out the 'wardrobe mishap' comments from the eventual print interview, though, and for that I'm grateful.
Someone else probably would've had third-degree burns, but yeah, I was pretty much blister-red and lightly singed all over, and lobster-red from blushing. (I bet you're laughing again. Stop that.)
Critical answers, as promised: Morse is a bit more challenging now that I can't just knock on the wall. You'll probably need to install a telegraph in your home. And Disney Princess would fit you so well — remember when Mattel reached out to Dad about licensing that Barbie? — but I know you don't like being woken up too early, and I don't want the birds to die, so we might need to scratch that off the list.
- Luther
PS: Another critical question. What does your schedule look like the last week of this month? Are you going to be in town then?
I'm going to be passing through for an event, and if you're not too busy, I was thinking we could grab some coffee or something. I don't know. It might be nice.
I miss y