#nerdflirt

Stretching out you pushed the chair away from your desk, the tiny wheels immediately halting as you bumped against your bed. Oh yes, it was also good to mention you were slowly losing your mind because your studio apartment was SOO friggin’ small you couldn’t stretch as much as a foot without bumping into a piece of furniture.

Not a problem when you have a social life. But very much a problem when you hadn’t. Usually you worked a lot, went out with friends, enjoyed to go for a run. And home? Home was just a conveniently placed bed in the middle of London.

Now, however, it was a constricting prison that seemed to strip away your sanity piece by piece.

As had become second nature by now you opened your phone, fingers automatically refreshing the front news page. Scroll, scroll, scroll. No new news. Then your e-mail. No new e-mails. Then perhaps look for some “inspiration” - whatever you needed that for - on Pinterest? Scroll, scroll, scroll. Okay, no, this is dumb. Going back to the mainscreen your thumb hovered over the Instagram button. 

You honestly didn’t like the app much. Fake people. Fake fun lives. It just wasn’t your cuppa tea. And yet you never got so far as deleting it since you did enjoy seeing baby pictures of your baby niece.

Okay, fine, maybe there were some new pictures or something. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do and so you opened the app, only to be confronted with a somewhat confusing image. What’s this? A large pair of hands painting an absolutely tiny polystyrene figurine. Why is this on your timeline? Your eyes gazed up, even more confused when you read the name “Henry Cavill” above it. Pfft. Probably some attention whoring from another bored superstar. You shook your head and scrolled on, eventually giving up again.

You groaned, feeling the abyss of utter boredom suck you in once more, your eyes wandering to the world outside. It was sunny, a spotless blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Hilarious, ain’t it? It’s nice weather out in the UK and guess what? You’re stuck inside because the whole world is in lockdown.

So…now what? You just had lunch, your apartment was pristinely clean and you already went for a run this morning. You sighed and turned your chair back so you could awaken your trusty old friend again. Your laptop. Perhaps Google something random? See what you find? The internet’s your friend, right?

Open. Google. 

You bit your lip, thinking of something. Anything. But your mind was a blank.

Hmm. Oh. You know what. Maybe it’d be fun to know what kind of fake nerd Henry Cavill actually was.

You opened Instagram again and, of course, his post was back on the top of the timeline. It was almost too easy. #GamesWorkshop #ProperGeek #Custodes. Hmm, probably one of those three tags were the secret. You decided to enter “custodes”, since it sounded the least familiar and hit enter.

Before long you had dived head first into the miraculous world of Warhammer miniature strategy boardgaming and the most ludicrous, but fascinating lore. There was a medieval variant, a sci-fi variant and some ancient Rome and English civil war stuff. All including a well-thought out background story and even more figurines then you could count. Pretty cool figures too, you thought, haphazardly clicking on “order” while scrolling through one of the webshops.

Like it contained some kind of bomb, the mailman sprinted off, leaving the small package behind while you opened your door. Fuck this corona crisis. You couldn’t even..greet the fucking mailman.

Picking up the package you carefully moved it to your desk. Would they be fragile? How tiny could tiny really be? There was only one way to find out, you decided, picking up a pair of scissors and cutting open the small brown box.

Well. Okay. That’s tiny. Tiny tiny tiny. Perhaps you had been a bit too over enthusiastic about just randomly picking up a new hobby. Like..did you even need like special paint for this? Carefully you placed the kit sheets with the hundreds of tiny pieces in them on your desk and bit your lip, deciding what you’d do next. Tiny heads, guns, wings, all stuck in a meticulously thought out grid. Where to start? Perhaps look for some inspiration? Tips and tricks?

The internet is your friend.

Silly as it was you ended up scrolling through Instagram again, this time on the profile of some “SirEltharin” who posted daily updates on his miniature painting. And just like you, he had bought the Retributor Squad from the Adepta Sororitas, the all-female fighter division that were also known as “The Sisters of Battle”. Just thinking how ridiculous that sounded made you chuckle. Were you a nerd too now? Perhaps.

He just posted something new you noticed.

‘These ladies are hard to tame! Oops, painting accident..’ He posted, along with a picture of some smudged paint on one of the figurines. You chuckled, commenting without much of a second thought.

LadyGrim - ‘Well at least you started..I just can’t get myself to paint :X’ - 1 minute ago SirEltharin - ‘No need to be Grim, good Lady. What’s keeping you from starting?’ - 2 seconds ago

Hmm. He responded immediately. A smile reached the corners of your lips as you shrugged and typed again.

LadyGrim - ‘Painters limbo? No honestly it’s my first set and I’m out of my depth here.’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Well if large male hands can do it. Surely a Lady can do it too? ;)’ - 30 seconds ago

LadyGrim - ‘Size can be deceiving.’ - 2 seconds ago

Your eyes rested on the screen for a bit, hoping he’d respond, but eventually giving up. Your eyes turned towards the sheets with the figurine parts on the other side of your desk.

Welp, it’s not like anyone could judge you for trying, right?

You painted that whole day, finding it nerve wrecking and meditative all at the same time. You hadn’t even noticed that it was past dinner time, until your stomach really started to growl with hunger.

After cooking yourself a simple pasta dish you sat back on your desk chair, forking the pasta into your mouth while opening your phone to check on any news updates. No news. Mail. No mail. Pinterest? Skip. Instagram. Heck, why not.

*New message from SirEltharin* Hmm. A private message. You didn’t even know that you could send private messages in Instagram, but alas, perhaps you were just a failed millennial.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey :) Guess what? I totally screwed up that figurine and have to do it all over again. Started any painting yet?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Perhaps you gave me all your good luck? Just started and..maybe..it actually starts to look pretty cool?’ - 2 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘Which one did you start with?’ - 2 seconds ago

Damn, guess it wasn’t just you who was bored to bits. This guy was one fast responder.

LadyGrim - ‘The one with the book? At least, I think…. So many parts..’

SirEltharin - ‘Yea. Requires a bit of strategising hehe. Besides..holy fervour and good faith!’

LadyGrim - ‘So why did you chose the sisters? You’re a guy right?’

SirEltharin - ‘And that’s a problem? ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘No..’

SirEltharin - ‘Honestly though. They’re cool. Strong women.’

LadyGrim - ‘Who got betrayed by the man they promised to serve.’

SirEltharin - ‘Ah you read the lore? Yea..men are dicks haha ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Can’t agree more.’

You back and forthed throughout the evening. Starting off with some Warhammer 40k related banter, but soon drifting off to talking about the Corona lockdown and the boredom that came with it. SirEltharin didn’t let off a whole lot about himself, which made your imagination run a little wild.

Perhaps it was this “milady” type of guy, that’d tip his hat at you, then grow annoyed as soon as you didn’t immediately fall in love with him. Or, maybe it was this skinny pimple-faced guy who only ever played female characters in games. Or a really, really fat guy. He did say large male hands. Large…could be fat? Or at least chubby? Ugh. What did it matter anyways. Men, you had decided, were always going to disappoint.

SirEltharin - ‘Hey, just curious by the way. Why did YOU decide to start painting?’

LadyGrim - ‘Are you asking just because I’m a girl? ;)’

SirEltharin - ‘Hardly. What do you even think of me?! ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘Okay. Don’t call me an idiot. But this movie star, Henry Cavill? He posted an image and though I absolutely think he’s one of those fake nerd celebrities who are in it for the attention, it did get me interested in the figurines..so..I just ordered and..here I am!’

He stopped responding after that. For the rest of the night. Did you say something wrong or did he just not see your message? Ah..whatever. It didn’t really matter. He was just some stranger on the internet. You started Netflix and crawled onto your bed, wasting away another evening bingewatching How I Met Your Mother.  

The next morning he had responded again. Around 5 am. Damn. Nerds ARE night owls, you thought, sipping your freshly brewn cup of french pressed coffee while leaning against your tiny kitchen block.

SirEltharin - ‘Can’t really say that without knowing him, right?’ - 3 hours ago

SirEltharin - ‘Anything in particular wrong with Henry Cavill?’ - 2 hours ago

LadyGrim - ‘Woa woa. No harm meant. Sorry. Guess I just don’t trust ‘em pretty boys?’ - 3 minutes ago

SirEltharin - ‘How’s that so? And good morning, Lady ;)’ - 2 seconds ago

You bit your lip and let out a deep sigh. Oh this man didn’t know what hellfire could come his way, opening THAT topic.

LadyGrim - ‘Good morning ..and..I doubt you’d be interested.’

SirEltharin - ‘You had my curiosity, but now you have my attention.’

LadyGrim - ‘Fine. Let’s just keep it plain and simple. Lied to, cheated on and continuously disappointed. Guess I’ll just have to become a lesbian?’

SirEltharin - ‘Don’t let a few bad ones ruin it for the rest of us. Has it been long?’

LadyGrim - ‘Long?’

SirEltharin - ‘Apologies. I mean. Since you last dated?’

LadyGrim - ‘A year or so.’

SirEltharin - ‘And how old are you? Or am I being too bold asking such a thing?’

LadyGrim - ‘It’s fine. Thirty. Had my birthday two weeks ago. So yea..becoming a bit of an old spinster hehe.’

SirEltharin - ‘Belated happy birthday and..hardly a spinster, right? I mean. I’m 37 and haven’t found anyone yet. Heck. I guess I’m the old spinster here haha.’

LadyGrim - ‘I doubt the same rules apply for men.’

SirEltharin - ‘Trust me. We are all judged.’

Weeks passed and you and Sir kinda started to really get to know each other. You both lived in London - how practical -, were pretty enthused about sports, liked dogs (he had one, you wished you had one) and were close knit with your family. You with your sister, who already had a few kids. And he with his brothers. All with kids. Teasingly you donned each other the nicknames ‘Uncle and Aunty Spinster’.

You knew he had looked on your account. Seen some pictures of you. Even made a few comments on them and liked everything new you posted. But he, SirEltharin, remained mostly a mystery. You tried to talk yourself out of your curiosity, but couldn’t help but lay in bed fantasising about him. The only body part you had seen of him to this point were his hands, and they were actually quite pretty hands. Well manicured nails, strong fingers. It meant he probably wasn’t SUPER fat. So. That’s something.

Eventually the COVID-19 related regulations were becoming less restrictive and for the first time in months you could go back to work. The very news had made you both reluctant - you liked this new rhythm of painting and chatting with SirEltharin -, but also happy. Finally getting out of your tiny apartment, finally getting back to work. It may require some getting used to again, but this was just what you really needed.

In your enthusiasm you posted a picture on Instagram of your work outfit as it lay neatly spread out on your bed sheets. Your boss had made some quirky shirts to celebrate the reopening of the restaurant: “Brunello’s back” was written in fancy white lettering on the back of the shirt. You giggled as SirEltharin liked it within a split second.

SirEltharin - ‘Back to work hmm?’

LadyGrim - ‘Yep. Its all fun and games until the rat race starts again.’

SirEltharin - ‘Sounds Grim ;)’

LadyGrim - ‘You know me too well Sir. Anyways gotta go. Bye!’

SirEltharin - ‘See ya.’

See ya. You always thought it weird when strangers said that at the end of an online chat. Clients sometimes said it at the end of a phone reservation. That was understandable though; they were to come to the restaurant. But complete strangers? There was no such thing as “seeing you around”. However in the case of SirEltharin you were willing to let it slip. He probably didn’t think anything of it.

For a first night it was already quite hectic at Brunello’s. The room, although still far less bustling than usual, was filled. People were obviously eager to pick up their social lives again, the animated chatter of guests zooming around the room while you paced past the neatly spaced white clothed tables. Brunello’s was a rather luxurious restaurant and mostly businessmen and well-to-do families and friends came here to wine and dine. Tonight was special though, as a few celebrities were sitting in the far corner. Including a familiar face: Mr. Cavill, your eyes immediately falling on him as he seemingly was giving you a questioning look.

Perhaps he just wanted to order some drinks, you thought, halting next to the table and offering them your most kind, professional smile - ignoring the curious pair of blue eyes that tracked your every move.

‘Good evening and welcome to Brunello’s. Is there anything I can help you with?’ You spoke, the sentence fluently tipping of your tongue, your eyes wandering slowly over the guests. Most of them were unfamiliar to you. And Mr. Cavill..you tried to just not give him any attention as he was still burning his eyes into you.

‘We actually could use some advice on the wine. We’d like to start white, slightly fruity, perhaps French? Though the Italian one also sounds quite nice.’ A small blonde woman spoke, peering over her menu card.

As this was not your expertise, you called for the sommelier, stepping back to make room for him. And all the while you felt those eyes, gazing at you, almost brazenly. What was up with this Mr. Cavill? Or did you maybe have something funny on your face and did nobody dare to tell you? Shyly you excused yourself, leaving the guests in the capable hands of the sommelier, and quickly made for the women’s bathroom to check your face. 

There was nothing out of sort when you looked into the mirror. Strange. 

Peeking quickly on your phone, a habit when you were alone, you noticed a new message popping up on your Insta-chat.

SirEltharin - ‘I think we need to talk.’ - 30 seconds ago

--

‘Hey, what’s that?’ Jessica peered over at your phone, noticing you were staring a some chat message. You shrugged, quickly tucking the device back into your pocket. ‘Nothing.’ You smiled, stepping back a bit as Jessica stretched out her neck even further, curious by your sudden exhibition of mysterious shyness. ‘Nothing? Oh come on. Show me.’ She demanded, stretching out her hand. ‘Mm..don’t think that’s wise. Corona and all?’ You shrugged, knowing full well that even without the Corona virus you’d never had shown your phone to Jessica. You just knew that Jessica would have hijacked the conversation, stealing your phone for long enough to find out who the mysterious SirEltharin was.

‘What’s up with you today?’ Jessica shook her head, her body turning back to look into the mirror and apply some new lipgloss. ‘Nothing. It’s just..weird to be back. I mean. It’s literally been months. I haven’t been home alone that long..like..ever.’ You widened your eyes and also moved to look back into the mirror, your hip leaning into the sink.

‘So did Henry Cavill say anything to you? I saw you standing at his table Grimmy.’ Jess tried to sound only mildly interested, the brush of her lipgloss slowly gliding over her pouting lips.

‘Jess..ugh..you’re incorrigible.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘His table just wanted to order some drinks, nothing more.’

‘Right. And that’s why he rushed to the men’s room right after you left in a hurry?’ She clicked her tongue, laughing merrily. ‘Highly HIGHLY doubt it.’

You knit your brows together. Was it…? No. It couldn’t be. Like ..what were the chances your mysterious Insta-friend was some A-list celebrity. Ha. That’d be TOTALLY ridiculous.

‘Well I highly doubt there’s any correlation. I just had to use the restroom..and so did he..most probably.’ You shrugged and walked back out of the ladies room, waving Jess goodbye. ‘Got to go before the boss lord fires the both of us for lazying around. See ya later Jess.’  

Before long you were swallowed back into the hectics of work, your feet zipping past the neatly laid out tables as you carried trays of food, your thoughts about SirEltharin easily pushed to the background.

One o’clock at night. Your first day back at work had been exhausting. Perhaps because your team had been slightly understaffed for the amount of guests. Perhaps because you weren’t used to working together anymore after such a long hiatus. And perhaps, just maybe, you, personally, had spent a bit too much energy gawking at Henry Cavill whenever you could, his eyes meeting yours every now and then. Jess was right. He was a total snack.

But now you were back at home. Reality settled in again. And that mysterious message still remained unanswered. Opening your Instagram your eyes immediately fell back on SirEltharin’s last message.

SirEltharin - ‘I think we need to talk.’ - 5 hours ago

‘I think we need to talk.’ You leaned into the old oak desk, your head tilting slightly as you crossed your arms. He didn’t look up, too engrossed with his brush as it stroked in minituous movements over the tiny plastic wings, their size no bigger than a thumb nail. A very nicely manicured thumbnail that belonged to one bear of a man.

‘Mmm.’ He hummed, encouraging you to go on, his eyes still trained on the tiny object between his fingers.

‘Babe.’ You sighed, your hand hooking under his chin and tilting his head back so he had no other choice but to look at you.

‘Yes dear?’ He smiled sweetly, albeit clear his attention was still elsewhere.

Talk, you mimed, your lips speaking soundless words, your eyes widening as he still seemed reluctant to the idea of talking, his eyes quickly flicking back to the miniature in his left hand.

‘Okay okay. Give me a moment to store this away.’ He sighed, offering you his sweetest of puppy eyes. Rolling your eyes you gave in, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you crossed your arms again. ‘Go on then.’

With nimble fingers he placed the little wings back on a toothpick, ready to dry along with the other hundreds of small items that were pinned into the piece of styrofoam at the end of the desk. Your eyes followed his moves with interest, travelling back and forth as he moved to settle everything just right. When he seemed to be stalling a bit too much, you cleared your throat, alarming him to not test your patience.

‘Okay! Done!’ He quickly turned in his chair, smiling sweetly while looking up at you, your body still leaning against the desk. You sighed and looked down at him, trying your best to be stern but also desperately failing. Those big blue eyes could make you do and say anything, really.  

‘What is it dear?’ He smirked, looping his hands around your wrists and pulling you closer to him, your body automatically stepping into the room between his legs, his arms quick to circle your waist.

‘You and I had a deal, remember?’ You quirked your head waiting for him to process, seeing the little cogs and wheels turning in his head. Then he remembered, his eyes clearing as his smile grew. The deal. Ah yes, the deal.

‘I remember, sweetheart.’

‘No more secrets.’ You reminded him.

‘Absolutely.’ He smiled, squeezing your buttocks with his large hands. You widened your eyes, admonishing him for his cheeky behaviour - literally cheeky.

‘So, why is the door to the garage locked?’ You raised an eyebrow.

‘Oh..that.’ He swallowed a chuckle, his teeth quick to bite his lip.

‘Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill. Are you keeping secrets from me?’ Your eyes widened even further, when his chuckle burst through, his lips turning into a wide grin.

‘Don’t be Grim, baby.’ He cooed, kissing your navel through the thin material of your shirt.

‘No playing games with me, good Sir.’ You tilted up his head again with a finger, raising your eyebrow in question. ‘Now tell me what you are up to.’

‘Well..okay..’ He got up at once, his height towering over you all of a sudden. He smiled down upon you, his hands moving to gently cup your face.

‘Paint Hen. Paint.’ You protested, but he didn’t stop, his thumbs now brushing over your cheeks.

‘Sshh it’s fine. My hands are clean.’

‘And your conscience? Clean as well?’

‘I guess you’ll have to see for yourself?’ He shrugged, playfully pecking your lips.

‘Henry.. I don’t like surprises..you know that, I..’ He turned you around with the least bit of effort, his hands settling in your lower back as he pushed you in the direction of the hallway, down the stairs and to the garage.

From his pockets he retrieved a pair of keys, making you gasp softly. Ah! So that’s where they went! The sneaky bear! The garage had this really old lock with only one set of keys - near impossible to get copied - and so usually it was unlocked, except for today. You had found it more then a little strange. Why would he want to suddenly start locking the garage? It was just the door from the hallway to the garage, there was no need to lock it..right? Did he buy something silly again? Oh please don’t let it be like a sea of a thousand roses or some corny shit like that. You always thought such a thing was a waste of money.

‘Okay, now, close your eyes.’

‘Oh Hen..no… No surprises. Come on. Just…’

‘Close. Your. Eyes.’ He pleaded gently, kissing your forehead.

‘Am I going to ..like..this?’

‘Stop talking.’ He chuckled, slowly turning the key in its crunchy old lock, your eyes now finally closed.

Please don’t let it be corny. Please don’t let it be corny.

Henry looped his arm around your lower back and walked the two of you inside, halting you somewhere in the middle of the garage. It was…strange. Wasn’t the car usually here? Oh dear… Did he make it into some tacky game room with big black leather seats? He had fantasized about it the other day. Oh please no. That’d be so..

‘Open your eyes.’ Your thoughts slowed as you opened your eyes to see…wait..what? This was not a thousand roses, or a bunch of stinky black leather couches. No. It was..a landscape..table? You moved closer, the TL light flickering above your head as you quirked your head, finally realising what it probably was. Ah.

‘Is this what I think it is?’ You looked back at Henry with a glint of surprise in your eyes. Henry shrugged casually.

‘A Warhammer ..game table?’ You started to giggle as you saw Henry’s eyes glimmer with boyish enthusiasm, even though he truly tried his best to play it down like it was nothing. It was more than a little clear he was enjoying every second of it.

‘Ah you know, it’s a shared hobby of ours and..the shelves are running out of space..so..I..’

You turned back to further examine the table. Deep oak wood just like the furniture in the study - it would probably fit just perfect there. And from the looks of it, it was made to offer the player full flexibility, thousands of tiny holes making a large grid, which could be used to secure building structures or landscaping elements. For now there were already a few of them placed, creating a small little sci-fi town at the far end of the table.

‘It’s got drawers too.’ Henry noted, stepping in and pulling at the sides, long drawers opening there. ‘Good for the pieces we want to hide slash store away. Separate armour pieces, guns, ..’

Your soft giggle turning into laughter. ‘Oh my dear lords Henry..hahahahaHAHA.’

‘What? Is it bad? Too dorky?’ His face fell a little flat, worrying that you didn’t like it.

‘Oh no. It’s just like.. like telling a woman; oh, and the dress’s got pockets too.’ You laughed as Henry gave you an even more puzzled look.

‘Which is..?’

‘Good Henry. It’s good. It’s great. Oh my. Praise be the God Emperor!’

You turned back to face Henry, your lips still stretched in a wide smile. He grinned, relieved you liked it, then stepped back behind you, looping his arms around you and laying his head on your shoulder. Your eyes kept travelling across the board, taking in the little details. 

‘Hey..is that..are these our..?’ Your laughter quieted down for a moment as your fingers brushed over golden letters that were lain into the wood.

‘Initials. Yes.’ He nuzzled your neck.

‘What?’ You blurted out, your voice laced with your confusion. Like, you totally understood why he wanted to have such a table. Especially with the vast collection of miniatures he had collected and painted by now. But have your initials there too?

‘At the other side you can also find our in-game names.’ He pointed at another set of shiny letters.

‘SirEltharin?’

‘And LadyGrim. Mhm.’ He nodded into your neck, playfully biting your ear, his body pressing you into the table, your hip now stuck between the table and a very happy-to-see-you Henry. You twisted your body slightly so you could look him in the eye, your hip still stuck between him and the table.

‘Why?’ You asked, completely flabbergasted by this ridiculous gesture. You had been dating for a year now. And let’s be honest. Most of your relationships would end by this time. Guys would lose interest. Cheat. Start to become big boychilds who nagged you until you snapped. But Henry? Oh no. He ordered a custom made Warhammer game table with both your names engraved into it. Like..really just…why?

‘Because I really, really love you. From the moment I first saw you I just knew.’

‘Embarrassingly so.’ You added.

‘Yes..a bit, hmm?’

‘You stared all night.’

‘And you didn’t even know I was..well..like..that you knew me.’

‘Yea..you sneaky bugger.’

‘Will you ever forgive me?’

‘Mmm..gotta keep working on that.’ You tutted. ‘Maybe, repay in kind?’

‘What kind..hmm?’ He hummed.

‘Oh..you know..’ You pushed your hip into his groin, making some room for yourself to turn and face him, his body not wasting a moment to pin you back to the table, his frame crowding you as he leaned in, his lips hovering mere inches away from you.

‘Like..this?’ He leaned down for a heated kiss, his soft lips feeling like hot little pillows on yours, his dimpled chin scratching you just a little. And you liked it, humming into the kiss, his hands now pinning you fully into the table, spread at either side of your body.

‘Maybe.’ You sighed against his lips.

‘Well, at least I started..’ He grinned.

‘Gotta keep up with the practice.’ You agreed, squealing as he easily picked you up, his hands pulling your legs at either side of his hip.

‘Now let’s see if there’s more we can make on here.’ He growled, bending you backwards over the table, your arms now sprawling up over your head and your back flat on the pinboard like structure. You sure must have looked like you were some kind of large space monster, your arms only missing the little village with mere inches as you squealed and writhed beneath Henry’s administrations.

Let’s just say that his hands were not only good at painting tiny miniatures.

‘Oh you are quite something Sir.’ You breathed, your eyes meeting in between passionate kisses, his hands drifting down to the hemline of your skirt.

‘Always sweet LadyGrim. Always.’ He smiled.  

‘Hmm..I think I might need to change my name.’ You smiled, giggling as he brushed feather light fingers over the inside of your thighs.

‘I can help with that.’ He whispered.

You crooked up an eyebrow. ‘Can you?’