[ Admission, stringed from Gaelio as if on a wire. Closer to the opposite.
Closer to the opposite, each syllable picked through for contamination. Tension builds once more, yet again, each time they speak or linger, as unavoidable and natural as the lapping of the shore. A tic, wrist continually turning about the circle of his fingers behind his back. Once he's able to note the sound of shuffling cloth to himself, despite how quiet, he stops.
Thumb at his wrist. Pressed and pressing to a delicate spot. ]
It's in our best interests to continue it.
[ Too placid a response. He can sense it, once the words leave his mouth -- the dodge in it, the disappointment in the flat arrangement of a dull reply in air as thick as this. Side-stepping what he wants, and the very question of want, the responsibility of owning it.
As he side-stepped back then, stealing quiet, burning looks when Gaelio would tip glass further back, or was distracted by another sight or sound, or was turned at a convenient angle. All kept to himself.
McGillis, a half-human creature, does understand -- it's not the sort of reply Gaelio is interested in.
It will string them along to nowhere. ]
I want to continue it.
[ More decisive, stronger in pitch. He tilts his chin back to catch sight of a star. ]
no subject
Closer to the opposite, each syllable picked through for contamination. Tension builds once more, yet again, each time they speak or linger, as unavoidable and natural as the lapping of the shore. A tic, wrist continually turning about the circle of his fingers behind his back. Once he's able to note the sound of shuffling cloth to himself, despite how quiet, he stops.
Thumb at his wrist. Pressed and pressing to a delicate spot. ]
It's in our best interests to continue it.
[ Too placid a response. He can sense it, once the words leave his mouth -- the dodge in it, the disappointment in the flat arrangement of a dull reply in air as thick as this. Side-stepping what he wants, and the very question of want, the responsibility of owning it.
As he side-stepped back then, stealing quiet, burning looks when Gaelio would tip glass further back, or was distracted by another sight or sound, or was turned at a convenient angle. All kept to himself.
McGillis, a half-human creature, does understand -- it's not the sort of reply Gaelio is interested in.
It will string them along to nowhere. ]
I want to continue it.
[ More decisive, stronger in pitch. He tilts his chin back to catch sight of a star. ]
I can't help but want to continue it.