[ His hand stops, arrested mid-fall by Verso's fingers as they catch him, again. Never mind that this fall was far less lethal than the other.
He doesn't try to pull his hand away, but nor does he turn it in Verso's grasp. He simply... lets the man hold on, and tries to ignore the way his heart gives a strange lopsided thump in his chest at the brush of that thumb over the pulse point in his wrist, calloused skin running gently over a thinner, much more delicate spot than the man had touched before.
Does it help, hearing that whatever the problem was, it wasn't him? A little, but then he'd never really thought it had been. Not without Verso being... far from whatever it was Gustave had thought he might be. Complicated, yes. A mystery. But there had been kindness in him, too.
He studies the man for a long moment, thoughtful, then cuts his glance to the side, turning his head and leaning to the left while he allows his right hand to stay relaxed in Verso's grip. His eyes shift from side to side, searchingโ ah. There.
Another, deeper lean and a quick motion of his hand, and then he's straightening, a freshly plucked flower held carefully in the metal fingers of his left hand. It's deep purple, the petals velvety and soft and fluttering gently in the breeze as he holds it out, offering. His head tilts a little to one side, lips pursing thoughtfully and his glance on the flower before it lifts back to Verso's face. ]
The others were nicer. But I think you've forfeited your right to an entire bouquet, no matter how deserving your performance might have been.
no subject
He doesn't try to pull his hand away, but nor does he turn it in Verso's grasp. He simply... lets the man hold on, and tries to ignore the way his heart gives a strange lopsided thump in his chest at the brush of that thumb over the pulse point in his wrist, calloused skin running gently over a thinner, much more delicate spot than the man had touched before.
Does it help, hearing that whatever the problem was, it wasn't him? A little, but then he'd never really thought it had been. Not without Verso being... far from whatever it was Gustave had thought he might be. Complicated, yes. A mystery. But there had been kindness in him, too.
He studies the man for a long moment, thoughtful, then cuts his glance to the side, turning his head and leaning to the left while he allows his right hand to stay relaxed in Verso's grip. His eyes shift from side to side, searchingโ ah. There.
Another, deeper lean and a quick motion of his hand, and then he's straightening, a freshly plucked flower held carefully in the metal fingers of his left hand. It's deep purple, the petals velvety and soft and fluttering gently in the breeze as he holds it out, offering. His head tilts a little to one side, lips pursing thoughtfully and his glance on the flower before it lifts back to Verso's face. ]
The others were nicer. But I think you've forfeited your right to an entire bouquet, no matter how deserving your performance might have been.