"It's my birthday today."
"That's nice."
"Yeah."
A brow was raised. "I thought you'd be more excited about it."
It was returned with a shrug. "It gets old after so long."
"I suppose it does."
"How do they make you feel? Birthdays."
"Annoyed mostly. Every time I have one that boy incessantly calls me an old man all day."
Silence.
"Are you going to tell me what's eating at you or am I going to have to force you. I assure you the second option will likely just be painful for the both of us."
"The first one. Maybe."
"Get on with it then. Don't have all day, now."
Silence.
"I swear, Beilschmidt, if you don't start talking—" The threat hung loosely in the air.
"Fine. I've been thinking too much."
"Ah, so you have the ability to think. I'm very proud of you, love."
"I've been questioning myself."
"Have you been answering?"
"Sometimes."
A blow that could have been lighter was delivered. "You're an idiot, Beilschmidt."
"Yeah, I know."
"Come. We're going to have tea, and I am going to explain to you exactly why you are so much of an idiot."
"What if I don't want to?"
"I don't recall giving you the option."
"If I didn't know better, I might think you actually cared."
"Yes, we both know the very idea of that is absurd. Now come."
And so he did.