Simply lovely.
It's little personal things like hearing him say his first name out loud, when I know it's Anthony and he calls himself Tony. (He does in fact look like a Tony rather than an Anthony.) Things like watching him talk about Prison Break (which we really need to start watching again so that I know what's going on and can talk to him about it) with Melanie . Listening to him talk for forty straight minutes about a multitude of wars that happened 200+ years ago, without the aid of the internet or a book, because he just knows it all. Hearing him say things like, "And a lovely dinner it was - you feasted on buffalo and the juice of the pomegranate." And he says it with the perfectest smile, that smirk of one who knows exactly what he's doing and how amusing it is. When he talks about Locust Valley money that Mr. Harrison knows about, oh yes, but try using it at the Mall. It's the feel of cotton when he walks past, tan skin, black hair, a not-quite-handsome face but just so attractive, a deep wraspy voice with a heavy, twisted New York accent. That he's so tall. That he dresses well. That he looks good in dark red. That he's the only one I've ever witnessed scolding a student for making a homophobic remark, when the rest of them don't notice things like that. That he's not a revolutionary, he's just human. He's content. That he was going to be a lawyer, and then Wall Street crashed in the 90's. That he's admitted to doing illegal drugs but forbidden us to ever say a word to anyone else EVER. That he reads. That he speaks well. That he's a terrible drawer. That he takes suggestions. That he listens. That he knows what he's doing. That he's funny. That he cares. That he says things like, "How's Rosalyn?" when I've only told him about her once. That he is so obviously flawed. That he is so obviously a sinner. That he is imperfect... and happy.