For Alcuin
They'd discussed it. They'd planned it. And frankly, even though things had been peculiar between them, there was no sense putting it off any longer.
Giles knocked on the frame of Alcuin's bedroom door, journal in hand. He was rumpled in a way that he only really was here; no shoes, no belt, shirt on but barely done up, no glasses.
"Alcuin?" He lifted the journal. "I think, if you've the time, today might be best for Mohinder's memorial."
Giles knocked on the frame of Alcuin's bedroom door, journal in hand. He was rumpled in a way that he only really was here; no shoes, no belt, shirt on but barely done up, no glasses.
"Alcuin?" He lifted the journal. "I think, if you've the time, today might be best for Mohinder's memorial."