They've seen each other, naturally; their homes are too closely situated for them not to. Brief acknowledgments in passing, maybe a nod or a tense smile, but little more since Lionel's first day, but that's as much his own fault as it is Marshall's. He leaves the hut in the morning and finds every reason to not return again until he needs to sleep.
Today he's back from his riding lesson, sore-hipped and shirt dirtied from a spill. Intent on changing, he finds Marshall's back greeting him from the door instead. Lionel pauses in the yard, swallows back the sudden knot of emotion in his throat and hastily wipes the sweat from his brow.
"You're so lucky I needed to change my shirt," he announces, voice and posture deceptively casual.
"I fell off a horse," Lionel answers, then reconsiders with a tilt of his head. "Actually, I fell before I was even on it. Big surprise, I'm not a world-class equestrian."
He hesitates a moment and jerks his chin toward the plate in Marshall's hands. "Are you actually on my doorstep bringing me cookies?"
"I am actually on your doorstep, bringing you cookies," Marshall confirmed, his lips pressing together in something that never quite managed to be a smile.
Comments 16
Today he's back from his riding lesson, sore-hipped and shirt dirtied from a spill. Intent on changing, he finds Marshall's back greeting him from the door instead. Lionel pauses in the yard, swallows back the sudden knot of emotion in his throat and hastily wipes the sweat from his brow.
"You're so lucky I needed to change my shirt," he announces, voice and posture deceptively casual.
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"I, um..." he said, his eyes falling from Lionel's face to the state of his clothes. "What happened to you?"
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He hesitates a moment and jerks his chin toward the plate in Marshall's hands. "Are you actually on my doorstep bringing me cookies?"
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"You're riding horses?"
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