[ Verso's focus shifts, but no part of it diminishes or dulls, only changes targets. The look he pins Gustave with is almost as predatory as the one he'd cast at the Nevron, though lacking the same blaze of fury.
He's not going to fool himself that it couldn't re-appear at any time. Verso is still seething at the way he'd flung himself from the mountain; it's only that he's allowed himself to be distracted by other, more pleasant thoughts. And indeed that's what seems to be on his mind again now, as he closes the distance between them, coming right back up against Gustave without any pause, his eyes half-lidded and the look in them satisfied and simmering now with something other than anger, and merde, how he wants this man. It aches, swelling through him, threatening to crack ribs and steal his breath with how much he wants those hands on his skin, his own fingers in that hair or tracing along the lines of his body. But— ]
That's not an answer.
[ Those fingers brush possessively along his skin, but he doesn't let them take hold, stepping back quickly before the man can settle back down to business. He's almost as agile in evading Verso as he was in dodging the much slower, far less appealing advances of the Nevron they'd just taken down. That Verso had just taken down, using a maneuver Gustave has never seen and couldn't have even imagined.
And that's not the only question Verso hasn't answered. Gustave keeps himself at a distance, a step or two away, his left hand held up between them, his own weapons long since vanished back into sparks of chroma. ]
How did you do that, with the chroma?
[ How did he even know Gustave was here, how was he close enough to save him, was he watching, had he been watching that first time, too? How are you alive is the question that slices through his heart, aching. Why didn't you come back? ]
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Date: 2025-06-04 06:20 pm (UTC)He's not going to fool himself that it couldn't re-appear at any time. Verso is still seething at the way he'd flung himself from the mountain; it's only that he's allowed himself to be distracted by other, more pleasant thoughts. And indeed that's what seems to be on his mind again now, as he closes the distance between them, coming right back up against Gustave without any pause, his eyes half-lidded and the look in them satisfied and simmering now with something other than anger, and merde, how he wants this man. It aches, swelling through him, threatening to crack ribs and steal his breath with how much he wants those hands on his skin, his own fingers in that hair or tracing along the lines of his body. But— ]
That's not an answer.
[ Those fingers brush possessively along his skin, but he doesn't let them take hold, stepping back quickly before the man can settle back down to business. He's almost as agile in evading Verso as he was in dodging the much slower, far less appealing advances of the Nevron they'd just taken down. That Verso had just taken down, using a maneuver Gustave has never seen and couldn't have even imagined.
And that's not the only question Verso hasn't answered. Gustave keeps himself at a distance, a step or two away, his left hand held up between them, his own weapons long since vanished back into sparks of chroma. ]
How did you do that, with the chroma?
[ How did he even know Gustave was here, how was he close enough to save him, was he watching, had he been watching that first time, too? How are you alive is the question that slices through his heart, aching. Why didn't you come back? ]