[ The name catches Dick in the chest, surprise and no surprise and a sudden ache of homesickness all at once. He covers it with a quick breath out instead, because once this line is crossed on both sides they can’t ever take it back.
Of course it would be Alfred. ]
...Turkey sandwiches. [ Softly, almost guiltily. His eyes drop to the roof, cheeks flushing red. If it's a trap, he's walking in blindfolded. ]
[action]
Of course it would be Alfred. ]
...Turkey sandwiches. [ Softly, almost guiltily. His eyes drop to the roof, cheeks flushing red. If it's a trap, he's walking in blindfolded. ]
Gotta be on rye bread.