// Start a tiny riot //
For a moment, he doesn't notice the way she hasn't moved since receiving the stars. He's still brimming with the sort of joy that struggles to be contained, the kind that breaks free in hundreds of small ways and overwhelms the other things around it with all its eagerness. It's a glimmer in every look that contains her, whether the brief stolen ones she never sees or those that linger so long that everything else starts to blur and fade except for her. It's a flash within each smile, intense and broad when it's the wild, face-eating ones, but winking even through the reserved lines. It's a sparkle that hums at the heart of every laugh, sending them out frequent and without reason, loud and long or whispered as it fades into charged breath.
He's sneaking one such glance now, expecting to see her caught up in the magic of glowing stars same as he is, but she's so still. His grin, nearly a tattoo at this point for its permanence, stutters. She is caught up in something, that much is clear, but is it magic?
Her gaze slides over, weighted and meaningful in a way that makes him lower his hands from where they hold the press of a star to ensure it sticks. It'll fall minutes later. "Why was he always gone?" Kaisel asks carefully, not wanting to dig up old hurt for her, be it accidentally with stars or purposefully with clumsy words. A hand drifts to curl against her leg, warm and reassuring even amid the low light of memories glowing green. "I never thought about what a star would smell like," he admits with a faint smile, watching the tender way she builds her version of the sky here. "I think it would be close to that though. Maybe a touch of popcorn."
He's sneaking one such glance now, expecting to see her caught up in the magic of glowing stars same as he is, but she's so still. His grin, nearly a tattoo at this point for its permanence, stutters. She is caught up in something, that much is clear, but is it magic?
Her gaze slides over, weighted and meaningful in a way that makes him lower his hands from where they hold the press of a star to ensure it sticks. It'll fall minutes later. "Why was he always gone?" Kaisel asks carefully, not wanting to dig up old hurt for her, be it accidentally with stars or purposefully with clumsy words. A hand drifts to curl against her leg, warm and reassuring even amid the low light of memories glowing green. "I never thought about what a star would smell like," he admits with a faint smile, watching the tender way she builds her version of the sky here. "I think it would be close to that though. Maybe a touch of popcorn."
Kaisel
// Stop being so goddamn quiet //
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
