[ It's clear that Verso doesn't believe him, but he doesn't push, either. He just catches Gustave's hand in his and muses about teaching him through a sparring session, that warm gleam back in his eyes.
For his part, Gustave laughs, willing enough to leave the subject of the white-haired man for the moment. What Verso has already told him is helpful enough for the moment: maybe he can't be stopped, but he can be slowed down. ]
You're as bad as Maelle. She's always trying to get me to duel her.
[ And she wins as often as not, quick as she is with that rapier of hers. Gustave laces their fingers together and lifts Verso's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, sweet and fond, the way he might if they were sitting at a streetside cafe in Lumiรจre, chatting over cups of coffee and fresh-baked madeleines. ]
... But I think we may still be too close to camp for a sparring session, if you don't want Lune and Sciel to interrupt mid-way through. They already think I've had one run-in with a Nevron without them around.
[ Which was true, just... not entirely. But this is also a good opportunity for him to say, more easily than he feels: ]
Tomorrow, maybe.
[ Tomorrow. As if it really is a certainty that he'll see Verso again then. Tomorrow night, a little further from camp, somewhere they won't alarm the girls with the sound of fighting.
He'd like to see Verso fight again, he thinks. His intensity, the way he moved, the deadly perfect grace and athleticism. Just the memory has Gustave's eyes darkening a little, recalling the way he'd looked, chest heaving and shirt falling loose around him, the look in his eyes still predatory and focused.
Not really a fit with this calm, peaceful little clearing, here by the gently running river, but something to look forward to again later all the same. ]
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Date: 2025-06-07 10:38 pm (UTC)For his part, Gustave laughs, willing enough to leave the subject of the white-haired man for the moment. What Verso has already told him is helpful enough for the moment: maybe he can't be stopped, but he can be slowed down. ]
You're as bad as Maelle. She's always trying to get me to duel her.
[ And she wins as often as not, quick as she is with that rapier of hers. Gustave laces their fingers together and lifts Verso's hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, sweet and fond, the way he might if they were sitting at a streetside cafe in Lumiรจre, chatting over cups of coffee and fresh-baked madeleines. ]
... But I think we may still be too close to camp for a sparring session, if you don't want Lune and Sciel to interrupt mid-way through. They already think I've had one run-in with a Nevron without them around.
[ Which was true, just... not entirely. But this is also a good opportunity for him to say, more easily than he feels: ]
Tomorrow, maybe.
[ Tomorrow. As if it really is a certainty that he'll see Verso again then. Tomorrow night, a little further from camp, somewhere they won't alarm the girls with the sound of fighting.
He'd like to see Verso fight again, he thinks. His intensity, the way he moved, the deadly perfect grace and athleticism. Just the memory has Gustave's eyes darkening a little, recalling the way he'd looked, chest heaving and shirt falling loose around him, the look in his eyes still predatory and focused.
Not really a fit with this calm, peaceful little clearing, here by the gently running river, but something to look forward to again later all the same. ]