[ Tugging one strap over his shoulder, Gaelio lets the other dangle, forcing his attention back to Mikazuki's face. Those dull, placid eyes. Simplicity might be a strength, one he has come to appreciate in others. It allowed no room for deception or uncertainty, though it might also limit comprehension of grander concepts.
Whether a lack of capacity or a lack of interest, did the cause matter against the result?
Without understanding, no meaning. Even with understanding, Gaelio doubts it would matter. Toward what did Mikazuki look, toward what does he strive? Are they so unable to even glimpse one another's worlds, the pigmentation, the light? Through Ein, he'd thought he understood.
But he doesn't know how to reach Mikazuki, and even if he cared to, he's can't afford the attempt. He cannot look away from the one to whom, for whom he reaches, even for a second. He cannot spare a hand, even a finger.
Even if, as that man would have it, Mikazuki would stand in that same path, beside or before him.
And if Gaelio stands in front of them, he has no doubt as to what Mikazuki would do. Yet, the question of where he stands is no longer a simple one, if it had ever been. Clutching in the rain, curled beneath the sheets, closer on the beach.
Logically, it could only be a fleeting truce, terminated upon their return.
I want to continue it. To find whatever was missing before. ]
...I don't know.
[ Admitted bleak, admitted quiet.
Retreating from what bleeds raw in it, his tone twists wry, like the empty smirk ghosting over his features. ]
If I answered yes, would you have killed me right now?
[ But he does not pretend uncertainty for preservation.
Gaelio shuts his eyes, not daring it. Aware of the gun in his belt, his hands lifeless at his sides. A moment to collect this and that piece, to secure what slivers keep him whole. ]
don't you might catch something
Whether a lack of capacity or a lack of interest, did the cause matter against the result?
Without understanding, no meaning. Even with understanding, Gaelio doubts it would matter. Toward what did Mikazuki look, toward what does he strive? Are they so unable to even glimpse one another's worlds, the pigmentation, the light? Through Ein, he'd thought he understood.
But he doesn't know how to reach Mikazuki, and even if he cared to, he's can't afford the attempt. He cannot look away from the one to whom, for whom he reaches, even for a second. He cannot spare a hand, even a finger.
Even if, as that man would have it, Mikazuki would stand in that same path, beside or before him.
And if Gaelio stands in front of them, he has no doubt as to what Mikazuki would do. Yet, the question of where he stands is no longer a simple one, if it had ever been. Clutching in the rain, curled beneath the sheets, closer on the beach.
Logically, it could only be a fleeting truce, terminated upon their return.
I want to continue it. To find whatever was missing before. ]
...I don't know.
[ Admitted bleak, admitted quiet.
Retreating from what bleeds raw in it, his tone twists wry, like the empty smirk ghosting over his features. ]
If I answered yes, would you have killed me right now?
[ But he does not pretend uncertainty for preservation.
Gaelio shuts his eyes, not daring it. Aware of the gun in his belt, his hands lifeless at his sides. A moment to collect this and that piece, to secure what slivers keep him whole. ]
Have you had a tour?