[ Verso laughs, and he blinks, then relaxes into a chuckle of his own, as self-conscious as it is amused. When Verso leans in to kiss his cheek, Gustave's free hand goes to his side, a touch that's almost reflexive now, finding a spot there at his waist just above the sash tied there that's starting to feel familiar in a way that sends a little thrill through him each time he realizes his hand has landed there again. ]
You've never been curious about it?
[ But why would he be? So much about the Continent is utterly bewildering, for so many reasons, and the manor itself has many more mysteries than simply where the water comes from and yet...
But Verso reminds him, delicately, that he had in fact had plans for this evening that don't include searching out the source of the working plumbing, and for a moment Gustave is wholly aware of how close he is, how cool the glass feels against his palm, how alone they are in this enormous, empty place. We have a chance, Verso seems to be trying to tell him. A chance to finally realize some of the many dreams they'd both indulged in over the last two years. They're alone, and they have the whole night.
His smile softens, and he dutifully lifts the glass of water to his lips, only to realize mid-sip how thirsty he really is. A moment later, he's drunk the whole thing, the water sloshing strange and cool as it slides into his stomach, and giving Verso a slightly abashed look. ]
Step one, complete.
[ He sets the glass down on the counter and glances around the kitchen again, then reaches for Verso's hand once more to thread their fingers together, pressing palm to palm, warm and affectionate. ]
I'm sorry, mon cher. Go on, show me what you had in mind.
[ He's smiling, eyes crinkled, curiosity and uncertainty still alight in his eyes but tempered now with sweet, steady fondness, and — underneath that — just a little bit of heat, like the first instant of a match striking and flaring into life. ]
I'm sure it wasn't just staying in the kitchen, was it?
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You've never been curious about it?
[ But why would he be? So much about the Continent is utterly bewildering, for so many reasons, and the manor itself has many more mysteries than simply where the water comes from and yet...
But Verso reminds him, delicately, that he had in fact had plans for this evening that don't include searching out the source of the working plumbing, and for a moment Gustave is wholly aware of how close he is, how cool the glass feels against his palm, how alone they are in this enormous, empty place. We have a chance, Verso seems to be trying to tell him. A chance to finally realize some of the many dreams they'd both indulged in over the last two years. They're alone, and they have the whole night.
His smile softens, and he dutifully lifts the glass of water to his lips, only to realize mid-sip how thirsty he really is. A moment later, he's drunk the whole thing, the water sloshing strange and cool as it slides into his stomach, and giving Verso a slightly abashed look. ]
Step one, complete.
[ He sets the glass down on the counter and glances around the kitchen again, then reaches for Verso's hand once more to thread their fingers together, pressing palm to palm, warm and affectionate. ]
I'm sorry, mon cher. Go on, show me what you had in mind.
[ He's smiling, eyes crinkled, curiosity and uncertainty still alight in his eyes but tempered now with sweet, steady fondness, and — underneath that — just a little bit of heat, like the first instant of a match striking and flaring into life. ]
I'm sure it wasn't just staying in the kitchen, was it?