“You wish to pull a prank? You've come out all this way just to –“ Alcuin glanced up in confusion just in time to see the angel cross the distance between them. His breath caught sharply in his throat as the curtain of his hair was drawn back from his face and tucked behind his ear, as it had been quite a while since he last felt so vulnerable to scrutiny. Samandriel had only been there for but a few minutes at most and already he had stripped him of his ability to keep his distance under the pretense of busy work, or even hide particular expressions behind his hair. “Perhaps not for you,” he released the captive breath with an incredulous chuckle. “but for us it has been very long indeed.”
Some might have even said too long, but he had lost his taste for trouble and intrigue – not that it was ever very strong to begin with – with the death of his lover. It was enough for him to just keep his head above water where it belonged. It had to be. “If it pleases you,” he yielded carefully. “though I don't suppose I would make for a very good one. I never had a family – certainly not in the sense that most might think of it, at least, and I've trouble enough puzzling out my place here.”