How Rau's chest rises and falls with each agitated breath. How his brows twitch slightly in their furrowed position. How his throat moves when he swallows. The barely notable flutter of his eyelids. And the way the grip on his wrist shifts slightly, a dull pain the whole time.
Words are meaningless in the face of this. Gil has built a career out of smooth talking, but he doesn't think he could find a verbal expression that could communicate what he's feeling right now as he's watching Rau struggle with himself. It's not the first time Gil has seen Rau vulnerable, but a fight with ones body is still quite different from a fight with the mind.
This is what it looks like to be chosen, isn't it? Gil has watched the people he loved walk away from him for the sake of their pre-existing convictions and desires, and he's let them. How could he not? He understands, respects having priorities. Instead of stopping them, he's built a shrine around his own hurt and locked it up inside.
But they came back to him - both of them. Talia, to offer him a death by her side. And Rau to spite the very notion he'd always represented: all things are born and die. That's it.
That should be it, but Rau is right here and looking at him with those clear blue eyes.
Gilbert Durandal has thought of his life as a mistaken path, and yet... how can he be this fortunate?
(Well, Rau might still try to double kill him if he lets him down. But it would at least be interesting to see him try.)
When Rau is finally ready to speak again, Gil meets his eyes warmly. His free arm finds its way back around Rau's waist in a loose hold. ]
I'm not certain 'clever' is the right word for that. Maybe I just talk too much.
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How Rau's chest rises and falls with each agitated breath. How his brows twitch slightly in their furrowed position. How his throat moves when he swallows. The barely notable flutter of his eyelids. And the way the grip on his wrist shifts slightly, a dull pain the whole time.
Words are meaningless in the face of this. Gil has built a career out of smooth talking, but he doesn't think he could find a verbal expression that could communicate what he's feeling right now as he's watching Rau struggle with himself. It's not the first time Gil has seen Rau vulnerable, but a fight with ones body is still quite different from a fight with the mind.
This is what it looks like to be chosen, isn't it? Gil has watched the people he loved walk away from him for the sake of their pre-existing convictions and desires, and he's let them. How could he not? He understands, respects having priorities. Instead of stopping them, he's built a shrine around his own hurt and locked it up inside.
But they came back to him - both of them. Talia, to offer him a death by her side. And Rau to spite the very notion he'd always represented: all things are born and die. That's it.
That should be it, but Rau is right here and looking at him with those clear blue eyes.
Gilbert Durandal has thought of his life as a mistaken path, and yet... how can he be this fortunate?
(Well, Rau might still try to double kill him if he lets him down. But it would at least be interesting to see him try.)
When Rau is finally ready to speak again, Gil meets his eyes warmly. His free arm finds its way back around Rau's waist in a loose hold. ]
I'm not certain 'clever' is the right word for that. Maybe I just talk too much.
[ He will not stop talking too much. ]