[ Verso is definitely anxious. He thinks this is a good gesture, at the end of the day, or he's quite sure it is: a genuine intent to give them somewhere special. Their first ( and maybe only, for all he knows the rest of their time together might go ) night together, anything would've been memorable, and would've been in its own way perfect. A night under the stars, by a quiet, makeshift camp . . . But once this had come to mind, especially when some part of Verso can't help but think of the Manor as at least some version of his home, he couldn't shake it from his thoughts.
But it's strange, a little eerie, filled with mysteries and questions. He wouldn't have blamed Gustave for maybe preferring to only stay a while and then to step away elsewhere to rest, or for agreeing to go along with him but end up feeling -- off, uncomfortble. But as always, Gustave seems to know whenever he wanders off into his mind into quiet spirals and anxieties, even if he doesn't always know exactly where they come from ( there's so much truth in these walls that Verso can't afford for him to find out about, this is awful and risky for his own ambitions, and yet ). Gustave is squeezing his hand, smiling at him, sweet and kind -- and then shifting into something a little mischievous.
Verso regards that look with some curiosity, and then Gustave mentions a bath, and. Oh. There's a flicker of something across his eyes, and Gustave might be able to see it, how he's immediately picturing it in his mind's eye: two of them sharing a bath, all tangled up in each other, with nothing between them but skin and the water. Standing next to a made and ready bath, Verso slowly peeling off all of Gustave's clothes, piece by piece, finally seeing him completely naked and bare, leaning into kiss everything he can reach. His own hands running over him, lathering soap, following the lean muscle of his shoulders, his chest . . . ]
-- Yes. [ Said almost too quickly, eagerly. He laughs, a bit at himself, sheepish, but the look in his eyes is definitely warm and heated and definitely sly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. ] Yeah. Definitely. The bath would work.
[ He's used it himself from time to time, but has gotten a bit used to the rivers and lakes around the Continent -- it's been at least months, probably longer. And with company . . . He squeezes Gustave's hand, taking a turn across the landing. He knows the place well and where the rooms all are, it seems. ]
I remember. [ A little petulant, playfully so, leaning in to press a light kiss to his jaw. ] Even if you only decided to wash up after we had to part ways, for the night . . . More than a little unfair, if you ask me.
[ How dare Gustave, honestly, it was a slight that Verso still remembers. He's walking a little faster now, tugging Gustave with him across to a certain door. ]
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But it's strange, a little eerie, filled with mysteries and questions. He wouldn't have blamed Gustave for maybe preferring to only stay a while and then to step away elsewhere to rest, or for agreeing to go along with him but end up feeling -- off, uncomfortble. But as always, Gustave seems to know whenever he wanders off into his mind into quiet spirals and anxieties, even if he doesn't always know exactly where they come from ( there's so much truth in these walls that Verso can't afford for him to find out about, this is awful and risky for his own ambitions, and yet ). Gustave is squeezing his hand, smiling at him, sweet and kind -- and then shifting into something a little mischievous.
Verso regards that look with some curiosity, and then Gustave mentions a bath, and. Oh. There's a flicker of something across his eyes, and Gustave might be able to see it, how he's immediately picturing it in his mind's eye: two of them sharing a bath, all tangled up in each other, with nothing between them but skin and the water. Standing next to a made and ready bath, Verso slowly peeling off all of Gustave's clothes, piece by piece, finally seeing him completely naked and bare, leaning into kiss everything he can reach. His own hands running over him, lathering soap, following the lean muscle of his shoulders, his chest . . . ]
-- Yes. [ Said almost too quickly, eagerly. He laughs, a bit at himself, sheepish, but the look in his eyes is definitely warm and heated and definitely sly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. ] Yeah. Definitely. The bath would work.
[ He's used it himself from time to time, but has gotten a bit used to the rivers and lakes around the Continent -- it's been at least months, probably longer. And with company . . . He squeezes Gustave's hand, taking a turn across the landing. He knows the place well and where the rooms all are, it seems. ]
I remember. [ A little petulant, playfully so, leaning in to press a light kiss to his jaw. ] Even if you only decided to wash up after we had to part ways, for the night . . . More than a little unfair, if you ask me.
[ How dare Gustave, honestly, it was a slight that Verso still remembers. He's walking a little faster now, tugging Gustave with him across to a certain door. ]