you are my sun.

‘What’s the matter with you Basil?’Basil’s face somehow reddened even further. He reached out for his tea on the coffee table -his hand trembling, Dorian noted silently- and took a long drawn out sip; then placing the cup down ever so carefully and clearing his throat with a cursory cough before replying. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Dorian dear, do you think I’m ill?’ He straightened his posture, but remained staring intently at the portrait. ‘I assure you I’m perfectly well.’ ------------Dorian notices Basil admiring him.Basil gets a confession pried out of him.