Hyacinthe looked at him for a long moment, and his hand squeezed Apollo's arm gently before it went back to his beer, a gesture of mixed apology and a promise of affection unforgotten.

He drank in silence for a while, but eventually he had to speak, between running out of his rapidly imbibed beer, a need to make conversation and a need to prove to himself he could still speak easily to Apollo.

"How have you been?" He asked. A silly question, idle chatter. But it filled the silence.