It was far from Laurent's first smile of the evening, yet still it made something in Damen's chest clench tight. He brushed his thumb over Laurent's knuckles and let his other hand trail down to rest lightly at the skin just above his high collar where he swore he could feel the steady beat of Laurent's pulse.

'I'm not illiterate,' he said, though the smile on his face never wavered. 'And I do like a good tale. And song. Though, in truth,' he added, his voice softening, 'I would just like to spend the time with you we were not afforded back home.'