Gor caught the egg awkwardly, both due to his surprise and due to his lack of coordination in general. Still, he did manage to catch it, and, as it lay nestled in his hands, something of that day came back to him.
Eleven years ago, the egg had been the Holy Grail of Easter Eggs. In the few seconds Gor had held it in his hands, it had seemed like the one thing that could change everything... It had seemed a lot bigger then, and it had been a lot heavier.
Looking at it now, Gor's face softened. It felt unnatural to him, to let his carefully molded mask slip away, but he hardly noticed it now. His fingers stroked the egg's smooth surface, the awe he had felt as a child now mingled with sadness. It was strange that this gaudy Golden Egg seemed to represent more than just the memory -- at five years of age, Gor had hoped that the trinket would bring him the appreciation of his parents and the applause of his brothers.
After a few moments, he seemed to remember that Nik was present. "I can't believe you kept this stupid thing," he said, meaning for his voice to harden with its usual cool distance. His voice and face both seemed disinclined to behave; he seemed more in wonderment than annoyed.