You’re going to scold me while you’re wearing these? [ kabru says, crooking a smile at mithrun and reaching down to pluck at the fabric of his stockings.
the thin fabric smacks gently against the elf's thigh, and kabru glances at the other's face, his playfulness diminishing once again. after the dramatic finale, things had settled easily into what kabru has now come to consider normal life. ever since he gripped mithrun's hand that day, after the banquet, he's been less and less willing to be parted from him for any significant amount of time. sure, the palace keeps him occupied, but he makes time for the elf, when he can. he wonders if this is about that—? it seems like a very small thing when their home has been destroyed. in fact, there's a pettiness in mithrun's tone that he's unfamiliar with— a vision of that so-called perfect young man does flit through his mind; a silver-eyed, silver-haired beauty who was known for his charms, but not much more than that.
the mithrun of a long time ago would have said that, he's sure. it's got the snag of a scorned lover, even. jealous—? kabru stares at him, completely perplexed, and doesn't reach to touch him again. ]
I want to stay with you.
[ it sounds a bit— bewildered.
he leans an elbow on the table and tips himself far enough so that he's looking directly into mithrun's face— funny, it's sort of the thing he'd do if one of his lady friends was grumpy with him. why he's decided that mithrun needs to be treated like this, today of all days, isn't fully clear to him— that tone, probably. ]
Hey, look at me. [ a graver note in his own voice, now. ] Our home is gone. You're the only— [ a pause, and he seems to search mithrun's face. ] We have to look after each other, like we did in the dungeon.
no subject
the thin fabric smacks gently against the elf's thigh, and kabru glances at the other's face, his playfulness diminishing once again. after the dramatic finale, things had settled easily into what kabru has now come to consider normal life. ever since he gripped mithrun's hand that day, after the banquet, he's been less and less willing to be parted from him for any significant amount of time. sure, the palace keeps him occupied, but he makes time for the elf, when he can. he wonders if this is about that—? it seems like a very small thing when their home has been destroyed. in fact, there's a pettiness in mithrun's tone that he's unfamiliar with— a vision of that so-called perfect young man does flit through his mind; a silver-eyed, silver-haired beauty who was known for his charms, but not much more than that.
the mithrun of a long time ago would have said that, he's sure. it's got the snag of a scorned lover, even. jealous—? kabru stares at him, completely perplexed, and doesn't reach to touch him again. ]
I want to stay with you.
[ it sounds a bit— bewildered.
he leans an elbow on the table and tips himself far enough so that he's looking directly into mithrun's face— funny, it's sort of the thing he'd do if one of his lady friends was grumpy with him. why he's decided that mithrun needs to be treated like this, today of all days, isn't fully clear to him— that tone, probably. ]
Hey, look at me. [ a graver note in his own voice, now. ] Our home is gone. You're the only— [ a pause, and he seems to search mithrun's face. ] We have to look after each other, like we did in the dungeon.