[ A patently absurd observation, and his laugh makes it clear he thinks so: if anyone's been doing any seducing, it certainly hasn't been him, awkward and too earnest with his flowers and the way he'd stumbled over even asking to see the man again. He wasn't the one whispering searing word or stealing kisses, drawing fire sweetly over skin and filling heads with steam. The only thing he'd done that could conceivably count as grabbing Verso's attention was to step off a cliff.
Which, well, had worked, in fairness. Twice now the man has appeared from nowhere to save him from a fall, giving it a one hundred percent success rate. Something to keep in mind in case Verso does indeed slip away again, despite all his promises.
But it's hardly what Gustave would call a successful seduction technique, and he's amused as he lies there, head pillowed by Verso's clothing, body lax and breath easy and slow beneath their tangled fingers, his eyes warm and smiling and full of everything he knows he'd never be able to express in words at this moment, not without tripping over them and making a mess of it all. It's too big, expanding throughout his chest, glowing like the sun.
Just for these few moments, he finally feels the weight of everything... lift, brief but relieving: the grief, the sorrow, the strain, the worry and fear. He's been existing on a razor-thin edge since Lune found him in that cave. Finding Maelle helped ground him, finding Sciel offered even more stability, but he still feels it, more often than not. The teetering sense of trying to keep his balance. The yawning pit beneath him, cool and coaxing and dark. But here, with Verso, wrung out and sweat-slicked and drunk on his kisses and his touch, for these few moments, it's all quietly slipped away. He doesn't know how to say how grateful he is for that, for this reprieve, the way he comes to life and quiets and remembers how it feels to simply be in his body under Verso's touch.
The other comment has him chuckling again, rolling his head back and forth on soft fabric as he shakes it. ]
I don't want to interrogate you. There's — well, there's so much I don't, we don't know, and you do, so of course I have questions, but it's not—
[ He licks his lip, eyebrows flickering into a frown, self-conscious and faintly concerned. Verso's teasing, he thinks, but just in case: ]
It's not why I came to meet you, I'm not going to, going to grill you for information. Yes, there's a lot I'd like to know, maybe need to know, but we can just...
[ He can feel himself starting to flounder again, and closes his eyes in a grimace at himself, taking in a breath and letting it out in a sigh before he looks back over at Verso. ]
no subject
[ A patently absurd observation, and his laugh makes it clear he thinks so: if anyone's been doing any seducing, it certainly hasn't been him, awkward and too earnest with his flowers and the way he'd stumbled over even asking to see the man again. He wasn't the one whispering searing word or stealing kisses, drawing fire sweetly over skin and filling heads with steam. The only thing he'd done that could conceivably count as grabbing Verso's attention was to step off a cliff.
Which, well, had worked, in fairness. Twice now the man has appeared from nowhere to save him from a fall, giving it a one hundred percent success rate. Something to keep in mind in case Verso does indeed slip away again, despite all his promises.
But it's hardly what Gustave would call a successful seduction technique, and he's amused as he lies there, head pillowed by Verso's clothing, body lax and breath easy and slow beneath their tangled fingers, his eyes warm and smiling and full of everything he knows he'd never be able to express in words at this moment, not without tripping over them and making a mess of it all. It's too big, expanding throughout his chest, glowing like the sun.
Just for these few moments, he finally feels the weight of everything... lift, brief but relieving: the grief, the sorrow, the strain, the worry and fear. He's been existing on a razor-thin edge since Lune found him in that cave. Finding Maelle helped ground him, finding Sciel offered even more stability, but he still feels it, more often than not. The teetering sense of trying to keep his balance. The yawning pit beneath him, cool and coaxing and dark. But here, with Verso, wrung out and sweat-slicked and drunk on his kisses and his touch, for these few moments, it's all quietly slipped away. He doesn't know how to say how grateful he is for that, for this reprieve, the way he comes to life and quiets and remembers how it feels to simply be in his body under Verso's touch.
The other comment has him chuckling again, rolling his head back and forth on soft fabric as he shakes it. ]
I don't want to interrogate you. There's — well, there's so much I don't, we don't know, and you do, so of course I have questions, but it's not—
[ He licks his lip, eyebrows flickering into a frown, self-conscious and faintly concerned. Verso's teasing, he thinks, but just in case: ]
It's not why I came to meet you, I'm not going to, going to grill you for information. Yes, there's a lot I'd like to know, maybe need to know, but we can just...
[ He can feel himself starting to flounder again, and closes his eyes in a grimace at himself, taking in a breath and letting it out in a sigh before he looks back over at Verso. ]
We can just, well. Talk.