i'm a thinker, not a talker
The double-pronged answer, the cheating at the question that Thorn literally asked, brings a quirk of a fond smile to Casimir’s harsh slash of a mouth and he nods slightly as if he’s processing the information. The color combination makes sense for the man somehow, and Casimir can imagine himself bringing the courtesan pink and purple flowers at the end of a long day just to see him smile.
When Thorn’s squeezes his hand in his, Casimir sends a light pulse back, reaching out with the other hand to trace Thorn’s knuckles where they lock with his. The directness is, as always, a relief, though the question itself is a surprise. Had the answer not been obvious? Had it not shone through as he lay all night with Thorn’s head on his chest, holding himself stone-still for the mere fear of rousing him? Had it not been clear when he asked Thorn to tell him to stay? Had it not been clear when he ran to protect the other man? (He would concede that that last example was in fact not clear).
Casimir nods his head once, firmly and decisively, his hair rustling a little from the force of it. And then, because Thorn had asked, and he deserves that much, Casimir says, ”I do. I want this. I just… don’t know how.” His voice is low and firm and decisive, and he squeezes Thorn’s hand to accompany the words.
When Thorn’s squeezes his hand in his, Casimir sends a light pulse back, reaching out with the other hand to trace Thorn’s knuckles where they lock with his. The directness is, as always, a relief, though the question itself is a surprise. Had the answer not been obvious? Had it not shone through as he lay all night with Thorn’s head on his chest, holding himself stone-still for the mere fear of rousing him? Had it not been clear when he asked Thorn to tell him to stay? Had it not been clear when he ran to protect the other man? (He would concede that that last example was in fact not clear).
Casimir nods his head once, firmly and decisively, his hair rustling a little from the force of it. And then, because Thorn had asked, and he deserves that much, Casimir says, ”I do. I want this. I just… don’t know how.” His voice is low and firm and decisive, and he squeezes Thorn’s hand to accompany the words.
Casimir
i've no one to talk to, anyway
