just because the fog is there
Vesper sinks into the seat with lazy grace, one arm slung over the back of the chair, the other curling around the rim of Liam’s now-replenished glass to nudge it forward with casual encouragement. "Much obliged," he murmurs, the grin tugging at his mouth wolfish and knowing. Not because of the words Liam chooses, but because of the ones he doesn’t. They hum between his temples like a radio station just slightly out of tune: Flora’s flushed cheeks, Maea’s soft silences, and the weight of wanting things in two directions at once.
He listens without interrupting—at least out loud. Inwardly, he’s already halfway through the script, drawing lines between all the quiet guilt and confusion tangled in the soldier’s chest.
When Liam finally trails off, Vesper leans forward, resting his forearms on the sticky wood of the bar, peppermint bark tucked between his teeth. "Seems to me," he says slowly, "you gotta figure out if what you’re regretin’ is the fact you said no, or just the way you did it."
His pale eyes glint as he tips his chin toward Liam’s glass. "If it’s the how that’s stickin’ in your craw, well—seems easy enough. Send flowers. Write a nice apology. Do that whole ‘noble, kindhearted man makin’ amends’ thing." A slow shrug rolls off his shoulder. "Then move the hell on."
But his gaze sharpens, a touch more pointed now. "If it’s more than that—if you’re sittin’ here wonderin’ if maybe you walked away from the wrong damn person—well." He lets the sentence hang, letting the weight of it do the work. "That’s a whole different mess, ain't it?"
He listens without interrupting—at least out loud. Inwardly, he’s already halfway through the script, drawing lines between all the quiet guilt and confusion tangled in the soldier’s chest.
When Liam finally trails off, Vesper leans forward, resting his forearms on the sticky wood of the bar, peppermint bark tucked between his teeth. "Seems to me," he says slowly, "you gotta figure out if what you’re regretin’ is the fact you said no, or just the way you did it."
His pale eyes glint as he tips his chin toward Liam’s glass. "If it’s the how that’s stickin’ in your craw, well—seems easy enough. Send flowers. Write a nice apology. Do that whole ‘noble, kindhearted man makin’ amends’ thing." A slow shrug rolls off his shoulder. "Then move the hell on."
But his gaze sharpens, a touch more pointed now. "If it’s more than that—if you’re sittin’ here wonderin’ if maybe you walked away from the wrong damn person—well." He lets the sentence hang, letting the weight of it do the work. "That’s a whole different mess, ain't it?"
don't mean nothing's behind it
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
