RORY
i told the stars about you
For a moment, Remi's rather awful joke had him perplexed—just a momentary, tiny stab of anxiety. Did I do something wrong? Is he not happy to see me? Why that even tone?It wasn't even half a second, then his brain pieced it together: oh. "Hah," he said, showing his disdain (jokingly, of course) and how thoroughly unimpressed he was with it—but the smile stretching across his face was wide and genuine, his soul warmed despite the rather dreadful fact that such a joke could be made at all. And suddenly, there were so many things he wanted to ask: was Remi's vision impaired even as an animal? How much did he see, if anything at all? What had caused it? What could be done about it? How could he work, sketch, create this wondrous and dream-like thing if he couldn't see it?
But it seemed a little rude to just roll up to him and then demand all the juicy deets about his handicap. So he kept his mouth shut on that particular subject, at least for now.
The answer to his question lingered in a thoughtful silence—he didn't want to call it uncertain, but maybe it was, or maybe that was just his anxiety. He busied his hands by running the pads of his fingers across the underside of the counter, tangled up in the memory of the previous conversation, when he had pressed the Alchemist.
This time, an answer came; not a full-blooded confession of his state of being, but not merely a socially accepted case-closed comment either. And not the one he had expected, either. Rory had seen the change in how they interacted, especially so at the meeting, and he had had his guesses about what that change represented. And he had been glad to see it, to know that they had each other, that Ronin was no longer dead and among the stars...
Rory's smile grew. He wanted to oooh the whole thing, become five years old and exuberant and much too chatty and interested in this coming wedding, but he felt as if the flow of the conversation somehow didn't allow for it. There was something in the timing, the cadence, that held him back. If he wanted to go oooh and gush about it he should've done that the moment Remi confessed to proposing, not a few seconds later when the man was just standing there, smiling and radiant.
"I'm very happy for you," he ended up saying, warm and genuine, but it felt inadequate. It didn't quite encompass all the things he felt, and it felt too shallow, somehow, like it couldn't convey how deeply he meant it. "For both of you." Slowly, he felt his smile turn a fraction more mischievous, more of a grin. "How did he react? Have you decided on when you'll have the ceremony?"
