Blame it on days in the places they made for the people just like me
She keeps a hold of his hand and he watches her curiously as she lifts it up, both hands rounding to clasp it and apply pressure. “It’s… Duller, but still there, yeah.” He says, brows pinching together as he considers it. His other hand moves over toward where she holds his metal arm, his gaze drifting between the two of them. “It’s like… Wearing a thick jacket.” Where you could feel the pokes and prodding but not as if it were against his actual skin coated arm.
Not that he was complaining, of course, it made it that much easier to be a soldier when he didn’t feel as well there.
She releases him though and his hand moves back to lean back on as he regards her, a hum of laughter leaving him. “Oh, forgive me for being rusty at it. I’ve only spent three hundred years under a bush.” The equivalent of living under a rock for decades could be said. But the smile is still crooked, still fanged and playful as his gaze dances along her face. “How much deeper are you looking for? You’ve already introduced me to a book that’s both quite up my alley and yours.”
Not that he was complaining, of course, it made it that much easier to be a soldier when he didn’t feel as well there.
She releases him though and his hand moves back to lean back on as he regards her, a hum of laughter leaving him. “Oh, forgive me for being rusty at it. I’ve only spent three hundred years under a bush.” The equivalent of living under a rock for decades could be said. But the smile is still crooked, still fanged and playful as his gaze dances along her face. “How much deeper are you looking for? You’ve already introduced me to a book that’s both quite up my alley and yours.”
VARUS
