[ Isn't this what he wanted the whole time he'd been across from him in public, verbal intimacy treated for this kind of intimacy, their bodies playing this little game, moving back and forth, finding a rhythm from the pull of their individual tides crashing against one another, finding a balance, a way for them to move just right between each other.
He tips his head upward, Silco meets his eyes -- always meets his eyes -- and his lip curls slightly, one of those barely there expressions -- and it doesn't quite vanish for once. His single eyebrow lifted, when he points out that he wants it, too.
Does he? Well, perhaps a part of him does, that long buried dead man that seems to want the things Silco knows he should not have. He knows better than to indulge that dead part of himself, but maybe he's more foolish these days, to let himself have these small things too. ]
Well, since you asked so nicely... How could I refuse?
[ As much a yes as anything. His thin fingers dance along his hand, head tipped just so. An invitation, should he take what's his due, in the end, he offers it for him to take, if he wants. (He wants it, he thinks, for him to take it.) ]
no subject
He tips his head upward, Silco meets his eyes -- always meets his eyes -- and his lip curls slightly, one of those barely there expressions -- and it doesn't quite vanish for once. His single eyebrow lifted, when he points out that he wants it, too.
Does he? Well, perhaps a part of him does, that long buried dead man that seems to want the things Silco knows he should not have. He knows better than to indulge that dead part of himself, but maybe he's more foolish these days, to let himself have these small things too. ]
Well, since you asked so nicely... How could I refuse?
[ As much a yes as anything. His thin fingers dance along his hand, head tipped just so. An invitation, should he take what's his due, in the end, he offers it for him to take, if he wants. (He wants it, he thinks, for him to take it.) ]