"Oh. Really?" he asked. It made him feel something strange, a curious mix of pride, contentment, and fulfillment, that she might like his work. Victor had accomplished a bit, by way of his literary career, but he'd never felt the way that he did at that particular moment. What was it about her?
It was the fact that she was a big Hollywood name, he reasoned. Yes, that had to be it. It was just that.
But then, she did have one of those journals, too... No, that was ridiculous. He dismissed the idea.
He would tell her... They had just finished, just adjourned from another meeting where Zeus' eye candy pretty boy was prancing around, pouring the Ambrosia. With a slight sneer at the thought, he looked around, searching for her. His very expression changed at the sight of her, youthful beauty bringing a smile to his features. He would tell her then, a story just for her...
He reached for the journal, his hand brushing against hers as he took it. Then, he reached for her hand, taking it in his, ghosting his lips over it.
It had been too long since he had seen her. He had missed her terribly -- it was not the same without her there. Cupbearer was her place, not for their father to appoint haphazardly. Why was he getting all worked up about this? He dismissed the thought. He kissed her hand, trailing kisses up, up toward her shoulders, then up from there to her neck, then toward her ear. He whispered into it, starting a sweet story just for her...