Re: Dietre A./Hugh C.: On the patio
Hugh glanced over, and with a quick smile, he slipped his fingers into Dietre's, squeezing them gently, bemused, but slightly apologetic in tone. "You're right, of course. I just meant that it ought to be played." And then he decided to leave his fingers there because he didn't really need them. One hand to hold a drink was enough.
"Loads and loads," Hugh suggested airily, a bit of a teasing exageration apparent in the words, and then he glanced over to Dietre, raised his eyebrows with a quick grin, and shook his head. "I'd say just you, but probably I do know people in the Capital who play, but mostly? Just you." And really, Hugh couldn't imagine having anyone else play it, maybe if there was a large party or something like, but mostly it seemed unlikely that anyone but Dietre would touch it. And despite himself, he decided that he really should get one. Dietre seemed so certain about it.
"My favorite guilty pleasure it is," he agreed. "Although I might have to pick between them, and maybe I'll end up playing you four or five. And then we can find something by Debussy maybe, even if I don't have a piano." He turned the glass on his knee for a moment, watching it.
"Would you be horrified if I invited you to something like this sometime? And you can be honest? I mean, I know it's not really you're preferredway to spend an evening maybe." The question felt a little like a change of conversation but maybe it wasn't entirely. There was a part of Hugh that realized that he and Dietre were very very different, and friendship could probably easily allow for those differences, and maybe more than friendship could as well, he just wasn't certain what that would look like. There were questions that he felt as if he'd been mostly pushing under the surface, not really allowing to make themselves known, but that wasn't making them go away.