He can't say oh now??? He tugs his own shirt back on—of course fixing his hair afterward—before standing back up and saying, "It's an interjection, I think. Fifteenth letter of the alphabet, too."
Gustave is so dramatic (says the most dramatic man in the world). It's an 'oh'! A somewhat confused, disappointed 'oh', but an 'oh' nonetheless.
"I meant nothing by it," he says, taking a few steps over to briefly rub Gustave's shoulder, reassuring, and— he's not sure how he ended up comforting Gustave over this, actually. "You just seem different today."
Gustave won't complain about the comfort, though it isn't necessarily what he was seeking. He lifts his hand, gently clasping Verso's forearm, trying to stay it for a moment. "It makes you uncomfortable when I get— sappy." When he acts like they're true lovers, and not whatever... this is. "Maybe I swung too far the other way."
Ah. He resists the urge to cringe. The endearment had sounded a lot better in the heat of the moment.
"...Uncomfortable isn't exactly the word I'd use." Undeserving, maybe. Like he's going to ruin everything. It's too much to get into, so he doesn't try. Instead, he crosses his arms, silent for a moment as he contemplates what to say before landing on, "You know, in nearly seven decades, you're the first person I've brought here."
Again, maybe visiting Verso's shitty little hut means nothing to Gustave, but it means something to him. It's a glaringly imperfect part of himself that he saw fit to share with Gustave. He's trying here.
The admission helps recontextualize things for a second time that afternoon. As much as he teases him for the hut, Gustave doesn't see it as good or bad, perfect or imperfect — it just something that exists because it is necessary.
"Hm," he says to that, and then takes a seat in the empty spot on the floor (also known in some circles as Verso's bedroom.) "Hand one of those books here and sit with me for a minute? I need a little more time to recover before I'm able to brave the gestral marketplace again."
"I was serious about the book club," he says as he swipes a couple of dusty books off the table for Gustave to peruse. He settles down next to Gustave, legs crossed, books in front of him. "We'll see who solves the mystery first, you or Detective Holmes."
Gustave takes the top book from the pile, sort of just leaning his arm into Verso's as he opens it up. "I told you, Maelle always reads ahead." He pauses, then laughs quietly. "But I guess I'll have a lot more free time than I used to."
"All the time in the world," he agrees, shifting so that their knees brush slightly. Funny; the future is probably an abstract concept for Gustave. He can't really imagine what that's like. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Dunno. Ridiculous, isn't it? I really was so sure we were going to do it. But I never really spent much time thinking about what that'd actually mean for me, personally." Gustave allows himself the luxury of actually leaning his weight into Verso; he's still very much sitting up, isn't cuddling into him, but— it's still kind of comfortable.
"You didn't fantasize even a little bit?" He extends a hand like a marquee: "Famous inventor, hero of Lumière, eligible bachelor. You had to have imagined what it would be like."
"Maybe— in abstract, sure. But I'm not the leader of 33. I was meant to be one name in a long list." Gustave smiles a little ruefully down at his own hands on the book. "I don't know. I wanted to see Maelle and my apprentices grow up. I wanted to see Emma get old. I'm not expecting a statue in the harbor, if that's what you're asking."
But he gets it, maybe. Gustave had expected to return to Lumière as invisible as he'd left it, if he returned at all. He hadn't thought his little sister would turn out to be the de facto god of this world. Reasonable.
"Well, there's nothing wrong with taking it one day at a time."
"Perhaps," Gustave says, then sighs, turning enough so that his back rests against Verso's arm, propping himself up that way. It's a thoughtless, friendly sort of slouch. "I'm going to drink a carafe of coffee the second the city is back up and running again."
Verso recognizes that having done so is his own fault, but it's still nice not to immediately find a reason to abscond after sex. It doesn't feel romantic, really, sitting here on the floor, but it does feel companionable, which has to count for something.
"That can't be what you miss most about civilization." He raises a skeptical brow. Maybe it's just the whole 'living in the wilderness for decades' thing, but there's quite a few things that he'd name before coffee, like— "What about the people? The culture?"
He nudges Gustave with an elbow. "I would think the lack of gestrals rated higher."
"I haven't been gone from civilization that long," Gustave says with a quiet laugh, leaning his head back. "But I imagine some gestrals will end up in Lumière before too long. It's going to be— a long transition."
That actually stunlocks him for a moment. "There's— a lot we'd need to do before that was feasible, just infrastructure-wise. But it would be amazing to get at least one up and running, wouldn't it? Even just for people to navigate across the Continent without Esquie." His voice is almost cautiously excited, but Verso will probably feel more than hear the way that he sighs. That's the sort of thing Maelle will be able to able to fix with a wave of her paintbrush, isn't it?
"Hey," he murmurs. "If this— confrontation with her father doesn't go as planned. She'll be alright, won't she?"
Verso worries his lip. "She'll be fine," he says, because that's what he has to tell himself. In the real world, Maelle is trapped in a burned body with a dead brother and a mother who resents her. It doesn't feel good to think about it, but—
It'll get better.
"She's his favorite. Everything he does is for her."
Sounds familiar. Maelle has a way of attracting that in people.
Gustave hums quietly at that, tries to take solace in the knowledge that no matter how things shake out — Maelle will be alright, somehow. "Tomorrow comes," he murmurs, and pointedly doesn't think about how it might not if things turn out poorly in Lumière.
He takes another deep breath, decides that he doesn't want to let himself ruin the ease between them with heaviness, and tries to redirect. "Another question." Gustave pauses for just long enough to reach up and touch his own neck. "Do I need to worry about this bruising?"
"Oh, yes, of course. One of those little leech Nevrons we've run into so many times on the way here." Gustave bumps his elbow back gently into him. "Need to find an excuse to head back up into the snow."
He mostly meant that most Nevrons would be more interested in eating him than taking a little nibble of his neck, but he offended if you must, Verso.
"Regretting I didn't bring any turtleneck sweaters to wear." Gustave's intention had been to park and read for a few minutes, but he's actually enjoying just kind of vibing here, Verso pleasantly warm behind him.
"You can go as often as you want once you singlehandedly get those trains running." What was it Gustave said about it being a huge undertaking, requiring infrastructure, blah blah blah? "Maelle would like it, too. We used to go all the time."
Well, she went with her real brother and he went with Alicia, but the fact remains the same.
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"I meant nothing by it," he says, taking a few steps over to briefly rub Gustave's shoulder, reassuring, and— he's not sure how he ended up comforting Gustave over this, actually. "You just seem different today."
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He hesitates, then adds, quiet and fond in his teasing: "Mon chéri."
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"...Uncomfortable isn't exactly the word I'd use." Undeserving, maybe. Like he's going to ruin everything. It's too much to get into, so he doesn't try. Instead, he crosses his arms, silent for a moment as he contemplates what to say before landing on, "You know, in nearly seven decades, you're the first person I've brought here."
Again, maybe visiting Verso's shitty little hut means nothing to Gustave, but it means something to him. It's a glaringly imperfect part of himself that he saw fit to share with Gustave. He's trying here.
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"Hm," he says to that, and then takes a seat in the empty spot on the floor (also known in some circles as Verso's bedroom.) "Hand one of those books here and sit with me for a minute? I need a little more time to recover before I'm able to brave the gestral marketplace again."
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But he gets it, maybe. Gustave had expected to return to Lumière as invisible as he'd left it, if he returned at all. He hadn't thought his little sister would turn out to be the de facto god of this world. Reasonable.
"Well, there's nothing wrong with taking it one day at a time."
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"That can't be what you miss most about civilization." He raises a skeptical brow. Maybe it's just the whole 'living in the wilderness for decades' thing, but there's quite a few things that he'd name before coffee, like— "What about the people? The culture?"
He nudges Gustave with an elbow. "I would think the lack of gestrals rated higher."
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"I know what you can spend your time on," he says suddenly, glancing over at Gustave. "You can get the trains running again."
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That actually stunlocks him for a moment. "There's— a lot we'd need to do before that was feasible, just infrastructure-wise. But it would be amazing to get at least one up and running, wouldn't it? Even just for people to navigate across the Continent without Esquie." His voice is almost cautiously excited, but Verso will probably feel more than hear the way that he sighs. That's the sort of thing Maelle will be able to able to fix with a wave of her paintbrush, isn't it?
"Hey," he murmurs. "If this— confrontation with her father doesn't go as planned. She'll be alright, won't she?"
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It'll get better.
"She's his favorite. Everything he does is for her."
Sounds familiar. Maelle has a way of attracting that in people.
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He takes another deep breath, decides that he doesn't want to let himself ruin the ease between them with heaviness, and tries to redirect. "Another question." Gustave pauses for just long enough to reach up and touch his own neck. "Do I need to worry about this bruising?"
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"—You can tell everyone you were bitten by a Nevron, if you like. I'll say I had to tear it off of you."
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"Regretting that you didn't make any snow angels?"
If Gustave even knows what those are. The people of Lumière don't even think gestrals are real; who's to say they know about snow angels?
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"Regretting I didn't bring any turtleneck sweaters to wear." Gustave's intention had been to park and read for a few minutes, but he's actually enjoying just kind of vibing here, Verso pleasantly warm behind him.
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Well, she went with her real brother and he went with Alicia, but the fact remains the same.
"I give great ski lessons, by the way."
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so French...
hon hon baguette... eiffel tower.....
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idk when maelle makes him old so just imagine him as a senior citizen if you want
verso showing up with a walker
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when i lock the thread again it means im too embarrassed to carry on
😠he was diagnosed with scoliosis AFFECTIONATELY
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spell it manoeuvre like a real brit
my work laptop autocorrected ton to tonne and i got so mad
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