09-19-2012, 03:53 PM
Sebastian's claws tapped slowly against his forearm. The fur along the back of his neck raised slightly, uncomfortable with having his back to a horse, but he tolerated it. For Alder and for his own curiosity. Why was the masked man acting so strangely?
Ah. So Alder knew. Of course, he had forgotten to use the river. Stupid. And Alder was taking it so personally, his bright blue eyes shining with unspent tears. A lump formed in Sebastian's throat, one that hurt to swallow around as his gaze dropped further.
"I... I do not..." What could he say? He had suspected. Not known. He hadn't been sure. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. Alder should have told him, should have made the first move. How could he have known?
The Italian acrobat had always been alone. Not in body, but in soul. He had not wanted to sully Alder's beautiful body by letting it lie with his own used form. The difference between them was that both Alder's body and soul were beautiful, ethereal things. Sebastian's body was beautiful to look at, but he knew that even if he had slept with a hundred men, his own fiery Italian soul could not hold a candle to the masked angel's.
"I... What did you think?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and prevent it from lapsing into his native tongue.
Ah. So Alder knew. Of course, he had forgotten to use the river. Stupid. And Alder was taking it so personally, his bright blue eyes shining with unspent tears. A lump formed in Sebastian's throat, one that hurt to swallow around as his gaze dropped further.
"I... I do not..." What could he say? He had suspected. Not known. He hadn't been sure. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. Alder should have told him, should have made the first move. How could he have known?
The Italian acrobat had always been alone. Not in body, but in soul. He had not wanted to sully Alder's beautiful body by letting it lie with his own used form. The difference between them was that both Alder's body and soul were beautiful, ethereal things. Sebastian's body was beautiful to look at, but he knew that even if he had slept with a hundred men, his own fiery Italian soul could not hold a candle to the masked angel's.
"I... What did you think?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and prevent it from lapsing into his native tongue.