i fell in love with a war
Thorn says he knows a guy that does it better and Casimir levels that flat, unimpressed stare that tells him flattery will not save him if that butt goes back on the smooth wood of the bar, letting the compliment roll off his back like he does all the others. All flattery, even if true (even he could admit he made a solid drink), was just a means to some sort of end. Even with his continuous studying of the man behind the bar, his grin wide and satisfied, and of all his rather extensive knowledge of him, he still couldn't quite place what, exactly, Thorn wanted from him. Other than... Companionship? Still, even now in the dimly lit and familiar space of the slightly-idealized bad, Casimir couldn't quite buy it.
It was easy to forget, though, when Thorn gave him that simple order to eat. There's that traitorous part of himself again that reaches for Thorn against all the survival instincts, tearing apart his armor from the inside all for the sake of holding out a hand. Every move Casimir has made to fulfill that desire this evening, though, has served only to maim. Even that shove off the table, though it brought a smile to Thorn's face, was still a hard shove towards a hardwood floor. His request to have Casimir just be there was too nebulous and foreign for Casimir to do, so what was left? How could he make him happy? And he does, he's realizing, he does want to make him happy. He wants to hear that full laugh burst from his throat, head thrown back as his shoulders shake. It wasn't something he wanted before tonight but as soon as he realizes it it burrows into his desire, suppressing even the loudest of his screaming survival instincts.
He cannot regale Thorn with lovely tales of adventure and daring, or tease him with jokes until he's hunched over. But this -- simple orders, actions attached, his eyes trained on the grinning courtesan to gauge his reaction -- he could do.
His body complies with the order. Fingers work open the lid of the takeout container and the smell of the meat-pasta-thing fills his nose, and though it is more room temperature than it was at the restaurant, he finds it much easier to anticipate the rich flavors on his tongue here than in that booth. It's better than anything he's made in his years of living here, and his eyes flicker from his food to Thorn in a look of approval. Without even thinking, he holds out his food to Thorn in a silent question, offering to share.
It was easy to forget, though, when Thorn gave him that simple order to eat. There's that traitorous part of himself again that reaches for Thorn against all the survival instincts, tearing apart his armor from the inside all for the sake of holding out a hand. Every move Casimir has made to fulfill that desire this evening, though, has served only to maim. Even that shove off the table, though it brought a smile to Thorn's face, was still a hard shove towards a hardwood floor. His request to have Casimir just be there was too nebulous and foreign for Casimir to do, so what was left? How could he make him happy? And he does, he's realizing, he does want to make him happy. He wants to hear that full laugh burst from his throat, head thrown back as his shoulders shake. It wasn't something he wanted before tonight but as soon as he realizes it it burrows into his desire, suppressing even the loudest of his screaming survival instincts.
He cannot regale Thorn with lovely tales of adventure and daring, or tease him with jokes until he's hunched over. But this -- simple orders, actions attached, his eyes trained on the grinning courtesan to gauge his reaction -- he could do.
His body complies with the order. Fingers work open the lid of the takeout container and the smell of the meat-pasta-thing fills his nose, and though it is more room temperature than it was at the restaurant, he finds it much easier to anticipate the rich flavors on his tongue here than in that booth. It's better than anything he's made in his years of living here, and his eyes flicker from his food to Thorn in a look of approval. Without even thinking, he holds out his food to Thorn in a silent question, offering to share.
Casimir
and nobody told me it ended
