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Cesare's smile is a touch sour, and although it accentuates his dimples, it never reaches his eyes. "Play mother, I? Hardly. Let's file it under sudden delusionary act of compassion with my favourite toerag instead, shall we? If that's what it takes to smoothen your ruffled plumage."
They fall into an easy step, companionable for all their ostensible grumpiness, and Cesare is almost tempted to say what he's thinking - that Harry is a nice boy, underneath all that wide-eyed bravado - but then he clams up again, jamming his hands into his pockets.
"Whatever tavern suits your fancy, Alex. Somewhere not too rowdy, perhaps?" he suggests eventually, several sheets of print-outs burning holes into the inner breast pocket of his coat.
Cesare's smile is a touch sour, and although it accentuates his dimples, it never reaches his eyes. "Play mother, I? Hardly. Let's file it under sudden delusionary act of compassion with my favourite toerag instead, shall we? If that's what it takes to smoothen your ruffled plumage."
They fall into an easy step, companionable for all their ostensible grumpiness, and Cesare is almost tempted to say what he's thinking - that Harry is a nice boy, underneath all that wide-eyed bravado - but then he clams up again, jamming his hands into his pockets.
"Whatever tavern suits your fancy, Alex. Somewhere not too rowdy, perhaps?" he suggests eventually, several sheets of print-outs burning holes into the inner breast pocket of his coat.