demainvient: (025)
๐‘ฎ๐’–๐’”๐’•๐’‚๐’—๐’† ([personal profile] demainvient) wrote 2025-05-30 02:55 am (UTC)

[ Verso looks away, and Gustave's expression shifts, too: his smile fades, his eyes turn more somber. All the teasing light filters away, leaving something a little too bare and a little too reconciled behind. ]

If I asked you, would you tell me why you can't?

[ None of this seems like an impossible dream to him, but Verso acts like it is, somehow. A dinner date, flowers, a slow stroll to someone's home, a kiss at the door โ€” even in Lumiรจre, these are still things people do. They meet, feel a spark, fall in love; all this despite the grief that is the inevitable reward for their optimism, their hopes. So why shouldn't they do the same? What makes this so impossible, why can't they see each other tomorrow, and the next day, and again the day after that?

Where has he been for the last nine months?

He hasn't pushed, but it hasn't been because he isn't curious. He's been biding his time, waiting for the right moment, trying to figure out a way to ask that won't lead to Verso simply saying something vague and drifting off like he had before.

But this really is absurd, isn't it? It shouldn't be this difficult for them to meet again, not if they both want to. So where, exactly, does the problem lie? ]

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