got anything fairshaw on the dusty shelves in the back of your library? <3
I have been doing some dusting! And maybe a little bit of projecting onto Mathias trying to let go of his workaholism...
I'm garbage at selecting single sentences, so I hope a tidied-up excerpt from the next chapter of Driftwood will suit your fancy! <3
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“Come on, then,” Flynn coaxed, clambering to his feet and attempting to pull Mathias up with him. “The wind’s changing— how about you show me what you’ve learned, and keep us on course?”
“I think I’ll stay put.”
“I swear I won’t let you tumble into the drink, love,” Flynn teased.
“I’d rather just watch you.”
He said it before he’d really thought about it, but once the words were off his tongue he realized immediately how true they were. Flynn seemed to realize it too, from the little wink he offered before he turned his attention to the sail.
“Suit yourself, Spymaster.”
Mathias wasn’t used to being granted permission to watch people; something about the idea sent liquid heat swirling through his blood and into his belly, despite the rather chaste context. He resolved to unpack that little revelation later.
Instead, he sank back into the blankets and pillows Flynn had piled into the boat, and willed himself to do something he hadn’t truly done in decades: relax. Nobody knew where he was today, save Flynn. There was no threat or obligation that could reach him out here, in the middle of the bay. Absolutely nothing to distract him from his default…
And that default, for as long as Mathias could remember, was to withdraw, and watch.
