[He isn't sure what he's done to earn that laughter, but it's also obvious enough that it isn't meant cruelly. Such a sound couldn't be.
And then it's clear. She fell when she was young, too, though she was the younger, and younger than he had been by far... He brushes away thoughts of John at fifteen, already tall and broad-shouldered as Theseus, as Patroclus. Those are memories he doesn't want this place to steal.
Her hands seem to frame him as though she's the sculptor and he the model whose imitated form could scandalize a generation of critics who needed to be. (He has given it thought, of course - he'd portray her as Minerva, in dark bronze that would evoke well the richness of her skin and hair. Minerva, but not sedate, no, a goddess of wisdom and war.) He nods - for a moment there's no other response he can make. She trusts him to be the best that he can.]
Of course. We should both do our best, shouldn't we?
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And then it's clear. She fell when she was young, too, though she was the younger, and younger than he had been by far... He brushes away thoughts of John at fifteen, already tall and broad-shouldered as Theseus, as Patroclus. Those are memories he doesn't want this place to steal.
Her hands seem to frame him as though she's the sculptor and he the model whose imitated form could scandalize a generation of critics who needed to be. (He has given it thought, of course - he'd portray her as Minerva, in dark bronze that would evoke well the richness of her skin and hair. Minerva, but not sedate, no, a goddess of wisdom and war.) He nods - for a moment there's no other response he can make. She trusts him to be the best that he can.]
Of course. We should both do our best, shouldn't we?