They were very noble steeds! Lynda liked him enough but Pickaxe gave him the side eye — probably smelled the Crakehall in him.

Griiiin. She woke up quite charming today, didn't she~

Hopefully the affection stays for a long time. Though he's got no clue how anything about himself can be considered cute when she exists.

(A compliment that, funnily enough, coaxes an easy smile out of Tybolt.) Margaery has quite the knack for making it appear — he's starting to think it might even be on purpose~

All of the members of the firm's board.

Hey! So is Tybolt!

A playfully offended gasp. What is that supposed to mean, Ms. Tyrell?

He tilts his head, smile amused. ". . . What's the lawyer mold?"

". . ." Blink. Never did he think so much of himself could be reduced to a couple of words. "And what has been the change of late?" A small smile.

Elegant and affable creatures, without a doubt.

Only Lynda, but she was a great sport about it.

"I have more reasons to smile now." Though he never saw himself as an overworker. Only a hard worker. A perfectly fine amount of work. "Speaking of which. . . Wanna join me at the mini golf tonight?"

"Got a few of them right here with me," comes his response, with equal playfulness. So he could do the correct amount of work! "Yeah?" He grins. "Good. I'll pick you up at 7?"

He lives!!

And now his morning's gotten a lot more beautiful.

Ears are open for any and all suggestions.

The tug alone is s bit of a thrill, but as her arms find their way around his waist, Tybolt can do nothing but return her embrace. His hold is gentle, but firm enough to keep her close to his chest. Day? No. His whole week made.

The touch feels unfamiliar, but not in any strange way. Margaery fits well into his arms, and manages to send a light coat of warmth rushing over him. He lets the embrace linger for as long as she likes. Even as a bit of a non-hugger, he never once tries to pull away.