[ So ... here's the thing. Matt is technically smart. Smart on paper. He likes banter, he got into grad school, he's read reams of esoteric texts with big words and antiquated grammatical construction. But sometimes--a lot of the time--he manages to miss the not-technically-spoken drift of conversation, the kelp-sway of a person's deeper meaning. ]
Oh, no, [ he says hastily, on the verge of rattling off more treatments the spa provides. Maybe Howl has his heart set on a body peel? It's not until a moment later, when that canny smile fully penetrates and when all that *you* do manages to land, that Matt realizes: oh.
He looks to Howl with a sheepish laugh, taking refuge in a sip from his own wine-dark drink. ]
Ahh ...
I don't think anyone here knows all I do, actually.
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Oh, no, [ he says hastily, on the verge of rattling off more treatments the spa provides. Maybe Howl has his heart set on a body peel? It's not until a moment later, when that canny smile fully penetrates and when all that *you* do manages to land, that Matt realizes: oh.
He looks to Howl with a sheepish laugh, taking refuge in a sip from his own wine-dark drink. ]
Ahh ...
I don't think anyone here knows all I do, actually.