In the morning, Sylvi's up first, having suffered no worse in her second chunk of sleep than eighteen-year-old Lu tripping and skinning her knee because the pet zebra she usually rode was getting reshod and she had to walk to the theater to meet her friends. Charp sets about making breakfast as soon as she stirs. It puts a kettle on to boil for Avedan's tea and fixes eggs and toast with jam for Sylvi. She reads more of her notes while the food cooks, and Charp delivers to her at her desk. It's all just how she likes it.
if_at_first
"So if I were going to be really picky about you invading my privacy I'd be in trouble whether you caught me going," she coughs and imitates her moany voice, "democracy, or not."
do_over
Helpless giggles. Helpless. He leans on her, for support through the ordeal.
"I - yes, basically."
"I - yes, basically."
if_at_first
"So it's thoroughly in my interest to find it funny instead. Don't worry about it."
Here Ends This Thread