[Upon the first word of his reply, Alois' eyes are slower than Miyuki's fingers, which have taken his gaze by the hand and firmly lead it to the older boy's visage proper. Initially, the younger of the pair is, even privately, uncertain—instinct, aside—as to why his own shoulders lock up, and his lashes go further apart, anxiety intensifying fleetingly. And as Miyuki takes to caressing his hair, then tousling it, that disquietude morphs into a strange creature of itself and something soothed, neither allowing the other sensation full-fledged room. A puppy, accustomed to being struck or starved or both, thankful to its new owner, who must still discipline but is worlds kinder, wiggling on its belly and thumping its tail after being scolded.
Miyuki's reasoning doesn't quite reach him, while youth stares at him and tries to parse out this murmur of familiarity. It doesn't come to him in a rush, since in more regards than not, they're nothing alike. But a mirage of Claude stands over Miyuki—taller, broader, golden-eyed, hair combed back, and all at once Alois understands that the previous assertive gesture, disguising itself as a trivial thing, was redolent of the same manner in which Claude, authoritative and guiding, hushes his uninhibited and soft little master.
Smoothing hand over his hair, or tipping his chin just the same, holding his cheeks and making certain Alois can see the bearing of his eyes; and Alois, oblivious, thrumming, nudging him away at the wrists, shying, shying, shying, not spurred on to try to fool Claude, but curling away from a deluge of Claude.
In short, simple, seemingly innocuous gesticulation that can make him grow fonder of someone, but it isn't his fault, he's deliberately been pruned this way. Not to say that this happens now, only the sinking realization that love is formed of a collection of moments like these.
The older boy is holding what he's chosen out to Alois, who's still staring at Miyuki himself, and his eyes are slow to descend, latching dumbfounded to the thigh-highs. His cognizance trudges out of recent past to catch up with both boys and their current goal. They will do nicely with the dress. A moth of a thing, his tiny smile appears, and he turns to reach out for them.]
All right. I'll put these and the shoes on, then. [And stooping only to pluck the heels up again, he shuffles back into the main room and drops on the bed to begin setting to the task of pulling thigh-highs on and up.]
no subject
Miyuki's reasoning doesn't quite reach him, while youth stares at him and tries to parse out this murmur of familiarity. It doesn't come to him in a rush, since in more regards than not, they're nothing alike. But a mirage of Claude stands over Miyuki—taller, broader, golden-eyed, hair combed back, and all at once Alois understands that the previous assertive gesture, disguising itself as a trivial thing, was redolent of the same manner in which Claude, authoritative and guiding, hushes his uninhibited and soft little master.
Smoothing hand over his hair, or tipping his chin just the same, holding his cheeks and making certain Alois can see the bearing of his eyes; and Alois, oblivious, thrumming, nudging him away at the wrists, shying, shying, shying, not spurred on to try to fool Claude, but curling away from a deluge of Claude.
In short, simple, seemingly innocuous gesticulation that can make him grow fonder of someone, but it isn't his fault, he's deliberately been pruned this way. Not to say that this happens now, only the sinking realization that love is formed of a collection of moments like these.
The older boy is holding what he's chosen out to Alois, who's still staring at Miyuki himself, and his eyes are slow to descend, latching dumbfounded to the thigh-highs. His cognizance trudges out of recent past to catch up with both boys and their current goal. They will do nicely with the dress. A moth of a thing, his tiny smile appears, and he turns to reach out for them.]
All right. I'll put these and the shoes on, then. [And stooping only to pluck the heels up again, he shuffles back into the main room and drops on the bed to begin setting to the task of pulling thigh-highs on and up.]