Sylus, You Can Just Admit You Care About the Bird

I have a weakness for a man who makes helping sound terribly inconvenient and then does a good job of it. An unfortunate weakness. It leaves me vulnerable to Sylus and, in Nightplumes, a small injured dove with absolutely no idea how much romantic work it's doing.

The arrangement is simple enough. The heroine needs someone to care for the bird while she's away. Sylus makes her work for his agreement until she frames it as helping her, then carefully picks it up. There we are. We have located the correct department. Apparently the general kindness desk is closed, but requests from this particular woman are being processed.

I find that distinction embarrassingly effective.

Not because I want everyone else left out in the cold. I just enjoy seeing a very specific person become a reason to do something you wouldn't otherwise have bothered with. Someone asks a favor and suddenly their problem has found a little space in your day. They haven't become easier to deal with. You haven't become less busy. You've simply decided that this is now your problem too, and you would prefer nobody make a big emotional production of it.

Fine. I can be discreet about being charmed. For perhaps four seconds.

There's also something wonderfully unglamorous about being entrusted with a recovering bird. Flowers can be arranged to arrive looking magnificent. A dramatic rescue has the advantage of being dramatic. Ordinary care asks you to keep bothering after the interesting part, when there isn't necessarily an audience and the task hasn't become any more exciting since yesterday. That's the bit I want a romantic fantasy to leave room for. The morning after the impressive promise, when someone still has to do the thing.

Obviously, I am susceptible to the impressive promise as well. Let's not pretend I've developed an immunity to a handsome man saying something outrageous with confidence. But if he volunteers to look after something precious to me, I want it back alive and comfortable. He can deliver the speech after we've established that nobody forgot the practical part.

About those bird photographs.

Nightplumes gives me one small complaint on that front. While she's away, the heroine gets a few awkwardly angled photos, and only when she asks first.

Oh, the photography situation.

If I leave an animal with you, I would appreciate a picture in which I can identify the animal without conducting an investigation. A reassuring little update. Nothing ambitious. I am not asking for a glossy cover shoot, although I reserve the right to be delighted if the bird happens to look particularly distinguished. Some of us worry, Sylus. Give us something to work with.

I like that this doesn't arrive as flawless boyfriend service. Being useful and being reassuring are two different talents, and I can find the first attractive while wanting a modest improvement in the second. A little less mystery around the bird, please. You may retain the rest of your mystique. I'm prepared to negotiate.

He saved her the happy part.

Then comes the detail that gets me. When she returns, Sylus says the dove was ready for release earlier. He waited for her.

That's a lovely thing to save for someone.

I would be so annoyed to miss the happy part after doing the worrying. Imagine being told everything went beautifully, the little creature flew off, it was very moving, shame you weren't there. Thank you for the update, I suppose. I will just construct the entire moment in my head and be normal about it. Letting someone be there is a much better gift than expecting them to enjoy your account of what they missed.

That is where the tenderness in this card lands for me. A favor can be finished efficiently and ticked off. Making room for the person who asked takes another little thought. I don't need that thought announced with swelling music. I like being allowed to notice it, then sit there feeling rather pleased with him despite myself.

And I don't think this requires declaring Sylus secretly harmless. I can appreciate one careful act without handing him a certificate of universal goodness. Honestly, the certificate would spoil my fun. The attraction is partly in watching him be particular about where his effort goes, then seeing that the effort is real.

I would still like better photographs. Being touched does not mean I've withdrawn that request. But the waiting buys him a considerable amount of goodwill, because it's such an easy thing to overlook and such a sweet thing to get right. He remembered that this mattered to her. I'm afraid that's going to count for quite a lot with me.

Sylus is welcome to keep sounding inconvenienced. I'll be over here, being unreasonable about the fact that he waited.