[ He'd been a fool, he knows. He'd realized his foolishness that very same evening and had spent the weeks after cringing at the memory. Verso hadn't owed him anything: not another song, not another few moments of his time. He'd left an apology; it should be enough.
And yet it had felt like a door slamming in his face, and now the man is back again — and where had he even been? In nine months, Gustave hadn't caught even a glimpse of him — and his features are as expressive as Gustave recalls, that teasing light bleeding away, shifting into something closed off and unreadable.
But when he steps back, Gustave steps forward, his right arm belted across himself so his fingers can curl around the sore place where his prosthesis connects to the stump of his left arm. For every step away Verso takes, Gustave takes one forward, closing the gap between them again, a confused frown flirting between his brows before it settles there for good. ]
How did you even manage to catch me? Where were you?
[ None of this makes sense, least of all Verso himself. For a while, Gustave had thought perhaps the man had backed away from their meeting because his number was coming up and nine months would be just enough time to build up a truly crippling heartbreak. Then he'd thought maybe Verso was a member of the expedition, too busy training and too focused on their goal, and, again, too close to his number being painted onto the Monolith.
But it turns out he wasn't either of those things, and, even stranger, had somehow managed to be right in the perfect spot to leap into action the moment Gustave fell. ]
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And yet it had felt like a door slamming in his face, and now the man is back again — and where had he even been? In nine months, Gustave hadn't caught even a glimpse of him — and his features are as expressive as Gustave recalls, that teasing light bleeding away, shifting into something closed off and unreadable.
But when he steps back, Gustave steps forward, his right arm belted across himself so his fingers can curl around the sore place where his prosthesis connects to the stump of his left arm. For every step away Verso takes, Gustave takes one forward, closing the gap between them again, a confused frown flirting between his brows before it settles there for good. ]
How did you even manage to catch me? Where were you?
[ None of this makes sense, least of all Verso himself. For a while, Gustave had thought perhaps the man had backed away from their meeting because his number was coming up and nine months would be just enough time to build up a truly crippling heartbreak. Then he'd thought maybe Verso was a member of the expedition, too busy training and too focused on their goal, and, again, too close to his number being painted onto the Monolith.
But it turns out he wasn't either of those things, and, even stranger, had somehow managed to be right in the perfect spot to leap into action the moment Gustave fell. ]
Did you know I was up here, somehow?