demainvient: (060)
๐‘ฎ๐’–๐’”๐’•๐’‚๐’—๐’† ([personal profile] demainvient) wrote 2025-05-23 02:35 am (UTC)

[ It feels a little like playing around with Maelle, this little game. He lavishes praise on the man, and Verso himself gets up to take an extravagant bow, and... that will be the end of it, he supposes. He's late as it is, and surely Verso himself has somewhere else he needs to be. Perhaps a family of his own that's waiting for him, supper on the table, a record on the music player.

What a strange end to an otherwise mundane day. Gustave ceases his applause, smiling, and tips his head just a little to the side, preparing to speak the words that would call an end to their impromptu concertโ€”

Only Verso isn't rising, and this... isn't the ending Gustave had anticipated. He blinks, brows flickering together in a bemused frown that shifts across his face and is gone again, and โ€” it feels like finally, though in reality it can't be more than a handful of seconds after Verso had first offered his hand โ€” he lifts his right hand โ€” flesh and blood, human, warm โ€” and sets it into the other man's palm.

It's a little uncertain, the movement. He doesn't know what Verso's doing, what he might be planning. Is this still a joke, something for them both to laugh over? If it is, why do the man's eyes seem so intent?

Still, he's here now, his hand relaxed even as a bewildered smile follows that frown to flit across his face. He lifts his eyebrows, questioning. Now what? ]

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