[He isn't quite caught up, only at the part where he remembers being in this room with the older boy, and from this angle, he can't see the monitor. For a moment, the indication of Miyuki's eyes is missed, and the supine boy has obviously taken what he's said to heart. An expression of hurt appears on his visage first, before quickly transforming into a kind of prickling that says he's about to deck him.
Fast up into a sit, prepared for it, offended because Miyuki doesn't know Claude like he does, and that he's supposed to be there now, that he's disobeying, broken the contract. Offended because, of course he's idiotic, he really thought Claude would appear, but look, no impeccable and pristine piece of shit in sight. It's too fast though for that recent bout of lack of oxygen—he gets light-headed, and the fist meant to follow doesn't, but in his brief tilting he catches sight of the screen then.
He does not have to read it in full. A few choice words sting his eyes, and he braces himself. He stares straight at Miyuki for a few seconds, not quite ready to let the offense go, and not quite ready to summon forth the girl. Miyuki's gone straight to it, and part of him does wonder if games of make-believe aren't as foreign to Miyuki as he had previously thought.
Lightly curling a hand to rest against his lips a loosely bent index finger, he clears his throat delicately, shifts to kneel more primly, and fixes the skirt of the dress while digging the hostage up.]
Perhaps. But, [while hand moves down, and gaze lifts,] now you've seen for yourself that I'm willing to do whatever it takes. [And the same hand moves again, this time to plant on the floor between them as girl leans in, staying on knees, free hand rising to run fingers under tie.]
I've been meaning to ask: what's the name of the cologne you wear? [Blue eyes, through the question, ascend to latch onto brown ones.]
no subject
Fast up into a sit, prepared for it, offended because Miyuki doesn't know Claude like he does, and that he's supposed to be there now, that he's disobeying, broken the contract. Offended because, of course he's idiotic, he really thought Claude would appear, but look, no impeccable and pristine piece of shit in sight. It's too fast though for that recent bout of lack of oxygen—he gets light-headed, and the fist meant to follow doesn't, but in his brief tilting he catches sight of the screen then.
He does not have to read it in full. A few choice words sting his eyes, and he braces himself. He stares straight at Miyuki for a few seconds, not quite ready to let the offense go, and not quite ready to summon forth the girl. Miyuki's gone straight to it, and part of him does wonder if games of make-believe aren't as foreign to Miyuki as he had previously thought.
Lightly curling a hand to rest against his lips a loosely bent index finger, he clears his throat delicately, shifts to kneel more primly, and fixes the skirt of the dress while digging the hostage up.]
Perhaps. But, [while hand moves down, and gaze lifts,] now you've seen for yourself that I'm willing to do whatever it takes. [And the same hand moves again, this time to plant on the floor between them as girl leans in, staying on knees, free hand rising to run fingers under tie.]
I've been meaning to ask: what's the name of the cologne you wear? [Blue eyes, through the question, ascend to latch onto brown ones.]