[Thread of sarcasm tranquilizes her (his) wild eyes, lessening their frenzied desperate look into the round, quietly fearful ones of a child, and still, finally, draw them to brown where Alois is permitted by fellow prisoner to see a crumb of truth. In whatever sense can be made of one younger, smaller boy looking on at an older, larger one, he clings from this distance, with his wide-eyes, now too nervous to make them stray because Miyuki's partially told him he's afraid as well, and Alois wants to burst into tears again and beg him to not leave him alone, he's insufferable, he knows it, but please endure him.
But the hand he's captured wrist with tightens, gaze becomes more meaningful, Miyuki tells him he's not scared of him, and Alois, flimsy, and fickle, and untrusting of himself, disbelieving of what he's heard, withdraws. It's at least not quite as permanent as before, and after a moment of his hiding, he peeks back out, up to other captive.
He stares at the hand over his, internally tries breathing life back into the girl, and he still doesn't know what to do. This should be easy. Many times before, it's been easy. Considerations on how to ease Miyuki into being okay with being touched, whether starting off or asking him, feel uncomfortable and awkward and somehow painful merely as thoughts. Miyuki's trying to keep the gangster intact, he could do the same. Should.
Different personas would be like a buffer of sorts for them, wouldn't they?
He can't tease or slip back into it the same way he had before, when he had the skirt to use as a prop, but... No. He never truly got anywhere, did he? Miyuki was acting as much as he was, which is a fair enough thing, but then Miyuki wanted to stop. So, now what? If Alois leans into kiss, cradle cheek, or put fingers into hair, will Miyuki, who's said, promised, he'll do what it takes, come to meet him and then desert him before they've made adequate progress again? Leave Alois continually floundering, and for how longâa night, days, weeks, years? Miyuki seems certain they'll make it out, but how long is this going to last?
Is it cruel of him to think, after Miyuki's wrists were bound, after he had to put up with the embarrassment of Alois dressing him, that largely, in the time they've been here, he's had the easiest time of it? That his demands are minimal. Throw herself at him, convince him, make a fool of yourself, let him laugh at you. This is what the monitor is really saying. How long. How much more.
It wants them to be of a certain way, and he can't muster up desire if Miyuki has none either. At this point in figuring out how to proceed, he's just nearly in the process of trying to remove himself, but it dawns on him that perhaps he doesn't need any of that. Maybe he can turn mind off, not go away entirely, but mute himself to wondering, to sensation, to Miyuki's lacking, and autopilot through it. It's been a long time since he's worked in that kind of existence, and it was never planned on, only an accident, but at this point, he feels it's only one of two options.
He does wind up leaning in to get them going again, beginning with kissâlight, but so far removed from his kissing before, emotionlessâin order to more seamlessly guide fingers up trapezius, and let them idle at nape of neck with the ghosting, tender scrapes of fingernails. He closes his eyes, not because he's reveling or swooning, but because he doesn't want to look at Miyuki, who doesn't want this, and if he does, if he has to, he'll end up crying, and that's not the girl.]
no subject
But the hand he's captured wrist with tightens, gaze becomes more meaningful, Miyuki tells him he's not scared of him, and Alois, flimsy, and fickle, and untrusting of himself, disbelieving of what he's heard, withdraws. It's at least not quite as permanent as before, and after a moment of his hiding, he peeks back out, up to other captive.
He stares at the hand over his, internally tries breathing life back into the girl, and he still doesn't know what to do. This should be easy. Many times before, it's been easy. Considerations on how to ease Miyuki into being okay with being touched, whether starting off or asking him, feel uncomfortable and awkward and somehow painful merely as thoughts. Miyuki's trying to keep the gangster intact, he could do the same. Should.
Different personas would be like a buffer of sorts for them, wouldn't they?
He can't tease or slip back into it the same way he had before, when he had the skirt to use as a prop, but... No. He never truly got anywhere, did he? Miyuki was acting as much as he was, which is a fair enough thing, but then Miyuki wanted to stop. So, now what? If Alois leans into kiss, cradle cheek, or put fingers into hair, will Miyuki, who's said, promised, he'll do what it takes, come to meet him and then desert him before they've made adequate progress again? Leave Alois continually floundering, and for how longâa night, days, weeks, years? Miyuki seems certain they'll make it out, but how long is this going to last?
Is it cruel of him to think, after Miyuki's wrists were bound, after he had to put up with the embarrassment of Alois dressing him, that largely, in the time they've been here, he's had the easiest time of it? That his demands are minimal. Throw herself at him, convince him, make a fool of yourself, let him laugh at you. This is what the monitor is really saying. How long. How much more.
It wants them to be of a certain way, and he can't muster up desire if Miyuki has none either. At this point in figuring out how to proceed, he's just nearly in the process of trying to remove himself, but it dawns on him that perhaps he doesn't need any of that. Maybe he can turn mind off, not go away entirely, but mute himself to wondering, to sensation, to Miyuki's lacking, and autopilot through it. It's been a long time since he's worked in that kind of existence, and it was never planned on, only an accident, but at this point, he feels it's only one of two options.
He does wind up leaning in to get them going again, beginning with kissâlight, but so far removed from his kissing before, emotionlessâin order to more seamlessly guide fingers up trapezius, and let them idle at nape of neck with the ghosting, tender scrapes of fingernails. He closes his eyes, not because he's reveling or swooning, but because he doesn't want to look at Miyuki, who doesn't want this, and if he does, if he has to, he'll end up crying, and that's not the girl.]