[ Verso has been close by for far longer than Gustave could possibly know. Since Alicia fell into the canvas and Clea had appeared to him in a whirl of ink, exasperated and irritated about her sister's folly, Verso's been watching after Maelle. Gustave coming into her life means by extension he'd kept some tabs on him, too, though it wasn't until their chance meeting in the opera house that he took a real interest. But for the past few weeks, ever since they arrived on the Continent? Verso has almost never been too far, would check in on them and watch their progress multiple times in a day, pull ahead to clear some of the more dangerous nevrons out of their path, wind back to the manor to check on Maelle. Once they'd all reunited, he's, well -- he's tried not to watch them literally all the time, but. Its pretty close.
Gustave asks him about telling the others. Verso understands. But he's so careful with Expeditioners, prefers helping them from afar when he can, trying to make sure the time he chooses to make himself known to them is right, if he even does it at all. As much as he fears their retribution and forcing his hand if they take him the wrong way, he also fears Renoir, watching like a hawk at his wayward son's poor decisions. He doesn't want to be the reason any Expedition faces his wrath. It's already happened more than once.
But Gustave keeps talking, tumbling a little over his words, and they're back at the opera house again, Gustave asking about seeing him tomorrow and then embarrassed at the words leaving his own mouth. Verso smiles, shifting where he's seated, sliding closer to him over the grass until he's pressed against his side, one hand reaching out to curve against his jawline and guide his head towards him. ]
I'm sorry it took so long, mon chou, but you'll have trouble getting rid of me now.
You have me. Tomorrow, and after. [ Unless something takes him away, of course, the Continent being what it is, but -- he means what he's saying, his thumb brushing against Gustave's lower lip. ] And you'll have me to yourself.
[ Playful, a touch of heat under the words, but also: no. Don't tell them yet. And probably not for a long, long while, if Verso is honest. ]
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Date: 2025-06-07 07:37 pm (UTC)Gustave asks him about telling the others. Verso understands. But he's so careful with Expeditioners, prefers helping them from afar when he can, trying to make sure the time he chooses to make himself known to them is right, if he even does it at all. As much as he fears their retribution and forcing his hand if they take him the wrong way, he also fears Renoir, watching like a hawk at his wayward son's poor decisions. He doesn't want to be the reason any Expedition faces his wrath. It's already happened more than once.
But Gustave keeps talking, tumbling a little over his words, and they're back at the opera house again, Gustave asking about seeing him tomorrow and then embarrassed at the words leaving his own mouth. Verso smiles, shifting where he's seated, sliding closer to him over the grass until he's pressed against his side, one hand reaching out to curve against his jawline and guide his head towards him. ]
I'm sorry it took so long, mon chou, but you'll have trouble getting rid of me now.
You have me. Tomorrow, and after. [ Unless something takes him away, of course, the Continent being what it is, but -- he means what he's saying, his thumb brushing against Gustave's lower lip. ] And you'll have me to yourself.
[ Playful, a touch of heat under the words, but also: no. Don't tell them yet. And probably not for a long, long while, if Verso is honest. ]