[ What he'd prefer not to admit to Verso — what he doesn't even want to admit to himself — is that there had been a moment, maybe a few, when he'd looked out over that height and thought: it would work.
Thoughts he's kept to himself, since those terrible moments in the cave when Lune berated him, bullied him into surviving. They found Maelle, they found Sciel, the mission continues, he has something to live for, even moments of real happiness, but sometimes... sometimes the weight of it all slips back over him, slow and insidious, and his heart stutters, it gets hard to breathe. Everyone they've lost, how far they still have to go, and there's only four of them now, what happens if they lose somebody?
(When they lose somebody. It'll happen. They all know it. They just don't know who, or how, or when.)
He doesn't think he wants to die, exactly, but there have been moments — not many, since the cave, but a few — where he's caught himself looking at a cliff, or feeling the weight of his pistol or considering the depth of some river or lake with a little too much quiet focus. He tries not to think about what more he might do than consider if Maelle weren't here, if they hadn't found her.
Verso... Verso doesn't need to know any of that. He's worried enough already, had been furious with it before, and they only just found one another. It's something else to live for, isn't it? The way it feels when he slowly runs his fingers up Gustave's spine, the warmth of him tucked against his chest, the way Gustave wants to hold on and never let go.
But, as usual, the choice is taken from him, never really his to begin with. Verso might not recognize that voice, but he does: it's Lune, by far the most awkward of the team to potentially find him entangled with a mysterious man who says he's over a hundred years old. He leans his head back against the rock, eyes closing with a sigh, then pushes forward to kiss Verso, long and deep. ]
For tonight.
[ He'd promised, and maybe... maybe it's a promise Gustave can actually hold onto. It turns out, in the end, he never had been all that good at protecting his heart. Not from Sophie, not from Verso.
It's with deep reluctance that he finally gets up, disentangling them, and puts himself back together as hurriedly as he can without accidentally slowing himself down by buttoning or buckling things wrong. He runs his hands through his hair, knowing it must be an impossible mess, and looks back at Verso. It feels strange to be the one leaving this time: like he had back at the opera house. And just like then, there had been a promise of tomorrow.
He doesn't know if he can trust it. All he can do is trust it, and hope that this time, his heart will go unbruised a little longer. ]
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Date: 2025-06-07 02:13 pm (UTC)Thoughts he's kept to himself, since those terrible moments in the cave when Lune berated him, bullied him into surviving. They found Maelle, they found Sciel, the mission continues, he has something to live for, even moments of real happiness, but sometimes... sometimes the weight of it all slips back over him, slow and insidious, and his heart stutters, it gets hard to breathe. Everyone they've lost, how far they still have to go, and there's only four of them now, what happens if they lose somebody?
(When they lose somebody. It'll happen. They all know it. They just don't know who, or how, or when.)
He doesn't think he wants to die, exactly, but there have been moments — not many, since the cave, but a few — where he's caught himself looking at a cliff, or feeling the weight of his pistol or considering the depth of some river or lake with a little too much quiet focus. He tries not to think about what more he might do than consider if Maelle weren't here, if they hadn't found her.
Verso... Verso doesn't need to know any of that. He's worried enough already, had been furious with it before, and they only just found one another. It's something else to live for, isn't it? The way it feels when he slowly runs his fingers up Gustave's spine, the warmth of him tucked against his chest, the way Gustave wants to hold on and never let go.
But, as usual, the choice is taken from him, never really his to begin with. Verso might not recognize that voice, but he does: it's Lune, by far the most awkward of the team to potentially find him entangled with a mysterious man who says he's over a hundred years old. He leans his head back against the rock, eyes closing with a sigh, then pushes forward to kiss Verso, long and deep. ]
For tonight.
[ He'd promised, and maybe... maybe it's a promise Gustave can actually hold onto. It turns out, in the end, he never had been all that good at protecting his heart. Not from Sophie, not from Verso.
It's with deep reluctance that he finally gets up, disentangling them, and puts himself back together as hurriedly as he can without accidentally slowing himself down by buttoning or buckling things wrong. He runs his hands through his hair, knowing it must be an impossible mess, and looks back at Verso. It feels strange to be the one leaving this time: like he had back at the opera house. And just like then, there had been a promise of tomorrow.
He doesn't know if he can trust it. All he can do is trust it, and hope that this time, his heart will go unbruised a little longer. ]
See you soon.