Henry watched Iestyn so carefully, revelling in that excited, shocked look on his face. He just wanted Iestyn to be so happy. That was all he wanted. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Henry said, stepping forward to run his hands across the paint. He could play too, having had it drilled into him early as a child. But this was Iestyn's, not his.
"It's from the 1800s! I mean, barely, but still. I found it and I just- It's yours, you know? It suits you."