superniceone | tfln overflow / open post

Gustave swears under his breath, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "She's - that was the plan, wasn't it? That she'd go to see her family there, and then come back here. You think she's changed her mind."

Not so much 'changed her mind' as 'never intended to follow through in the first place'. Maybe she told herself she would, deluded herself into believing she would be responsible, but— he can't shake the image of Maman, stumbling and coughing, but desperate to find her way back into the thing actively killing her. He couldn't bear watching Maelle do the same or, even worse, refusing to leave while continuing to deteriorate in this place.

"I think it's hard to resist." To say the least. "In here, things are... different for her."

The single worst moment of her life is undone, and therefore everything that came after is undone, too. The grief, the physical pain, her mother's resentment. She doesn't have to deal with any of that here.

"But it's not real."

"It's not real," Gustave echoes, and his face shutters slightly at that. Fuck. It would have been better for her if it had just all ended. "Merde. Yes. Of course I'll talk to her. You should have come to me earlier."

He's a little taken aback by the quick agreement. "I thought— I thought you might be afraid of what her father might do to the Canvas if she leaves." Because there's always a chance that he'll destroy it, as long as Maelle isn't in it; all of Lumiére gone in an instant. It's a sacrifice Verso is willing to make, one he's spent years deliberating, but he imagines the thought doesn't sit well with Gustave.

"Of course I am." Gustave stands up then, wine still in his hand. This is enough to make him start pacing, his mind kicking into abrupt overdrive. "It's terrifying. But the longer Maelle stays, the more likely it is to happen. And if Lumiere evaporating again means Maelle's safety, then- it is what it is."

It's his exact sentiment being echoed back at him, but somehow it doesn't feel quite so good to hear it is what it is. Maybe it would have been kinder not to burden Gustave with this knowledge.

"Okay," he says, before taking another sip and trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. "Then you'll talk to her." His own attempt at reasoning with her didn't go so well, but maybe things will be different with Gustave. "Tonight?"

"In the morning," Gustave says with shake of the head, every muscle in his body strung tight. "Conversations like that— they're no good late at night. Emotions are more volatile. Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, when she's not been out all evening."

"—All right. In the morning."

Watching Gustave coiled tight like a spring, yes, Verso does start to think that he made a mistake in confiding in him. He could have tried harder on his own. Talked to Maelle again, no matter how fruitless it might be. Even though he's the one who caused the distress in the first place, he feels the ridiculous urge to reach out and soothe. He does, but only insomuch that he catches Gustave's arm the next time he paces by.

"Hey. Pacing isn't going to make Maelle any safer."

"What?" Gustave seems almost startled by that, halting immediately when he's touched like he's almost startled by that. "No, sorry, I know, I'm just- thinking." He takes Verso's wrist, bringing it up to his mouth to skim his fingers with an almost distracted kiss. "Deciding what to say to her." He's going to be up all night.

"All right." It sort of feels like he walked in here, half-peeled a potato, and then gave Gustave a crisis. It would be prudent to leave before he makes things worse. "I can leave you to it."

"Leaving me to drink alone?" He drops down to a heavy seat at the foot of his bed, folding one leg up with him. He doesn't say what he wants to: You always find excuses to go.

Verso levels him with a Look™. "I'd love to take advantage of you wine-drunk and emotionally compromised, but I'm trying to be self-sacrificing and tragic."

Gustave his him with a Look® in return. "I'm not asking to be taken advantage of. Just for company until my head quiets down."

Well, Verso hits him with a Look©!!! Just kidding; he stands, then hovers awkwardly for a moment beside Gustave like he's not sure if he has the right to sit down before finaly perching lightly beside him, a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think your head has ever been quiet," he says drily, although he feels bad about what he's done. Gustave's head is swimming because of him carelessly dropping a bomb.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I didn't think about if you were ready to hear it."

"Ready has nothing to do with it, Verso," Gustave says quietly, though it's clear he's relieved when Verso takes a seat instead of beelining for the door. "I knew something was wrong when the two of you fought. It's a relief in a way. Knowing I wasn't just jumping at ghosts."

He leans into Verso, though not really resting his weight onto him. Taking comfort, maybe, in just having someone there.

Ready has everything to do with it. He remembers Clea dropping the truth into his lap without any care at all; he'd always known something was wrong, too, but it hadn't made the resulting fallout any easier. He should have been gentler with it, at least, eased Gustave into the idea.

He rubs Gustave's back comfortingly, the way he'd done in the entryway. He's no good at real comfort, the kind that actually looks the problem in the face, but he can offer distractions. "So," he says softly, "are you going to make more Sakapatate?"

Gustave doesn't mean to snort a laugh at that question, but it sort of just comes out unbidden. "I think that's fully dependent on how much more wine I'm able to sneak in here without my sister realizing," he muses wryly, like he's not still fully distracted.

He's so tired of goodbyes, he thinks.

This is good. He's going to get a good grade in cheering Gustave up.

"I'll distract the council members for you, if you like. Run naked through the dining room, toss a dismembered foot through the air..." Obviously, he is being deranged for the sake of making Gustave laugh again. "I'm open to suggestions."

"No good. Can't have any of them falling in love with you, I've got enough problems on my plate." He bumps him gently in the ribs with his elbow, before offering him a sip of the white.

Verso takes the sip, casual, although he doesn't stop the reassuring movement of his hand on Gustave's back. "From an airborne foot?" He offers the bottle back. "Clearly, I've been doing this seduction thing all wrong."

"Oh, yes, that's exactly what I was talking about." Gustave wants to be annoyed by the hand on his back, if only because— it's an odd feeling, being the one getting comforted. Verso has been sitting with this anxiety for more than a week; he shouldn't be the one having to soothe Gustave's nerves

He closes his eyes, taking a bracing breath. "I'm going to finish my book and drink. And after that, I'll let myself start worrying again. Do you think you could, uh." Loiter, is what he wants to ask, but it feels selfish. He can't blame him for wanting to be alone.

Sorry, he's still in full clown mode to try to lift Gustave's spirits. "...Juggle? Do a handstand? Make shadow puppets?"

The answer to all three is yes, by the way!!!

"Verso." He's rolling his eyes as he shakes the hand off his back, but there's a breath of laughter, too. "Do a puzzle. Read your own book. Nap. One of those."

It does feel like he should leave. He's still grappling with the fact that his continued existence in this world will forever torment his mother, and that he's now surrounded with people who have suffered greatly in order to protect that existence, and that he's failed to protect his sister from herself—

He's not feeling great about himself, is the point; it feels as if everything he touches rusts and tarnishes. But Gustave is asking him to stay, and it's hard to say no to those big, brown eyes.

"...Yeah. Sure." He stands, wandering over to the bookshelf. "I can read, uh— Machine Design Using Kinematic Principles." He grimaces, then plucks the book from its shelf by the spine. "Sounds like a nice, light read."

It's not as if Gustave would be able to dispute any of that regardless of how hard he tried. Verso's life was goddamn tragic. But he hadn't asked for any of it; his existence was the catalyst for disaster, not the choices he made.

Maybe they're just excuses he's making for someone he's found himself caring deeply about. He'll do his best to unpack those someday, if they ever actually have the chance.

"I just finished The Red Sphinx this morning," he says, indicating his bedside table. "Might be a little more palatable to you."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject