[ McGillis remains oblivious to the true cause of Gaelio's distress for a little bit longer.
He's able to sense it, able to see it when he glances at his features, but at first he's simply certain it has something to do with the aftereffects of his strange overture. Although... those short glances eventually turn his head, once he notices the extent to which Gaelio's gaze is fixed on him. Like he looks to McGillis as a source of relief in something, in whatever ails him, rather than as the source of distress.
How wrong he is in that.
McGillis blinks, fingers falling away from the curl, attention shifting back.
It means he looks directly at him while he takes in the reply to their mutual posturing about sweets. True to form, they have different takes on both the subtle meaning behind choice and the weight of its importance. A nostalgic feeling tugs his lip up, in response to the crooked one fashioned on Gaelio's features, but the heaviness in the air keeps it from blooming.
We might.
He could pontificate further, but something is wrong -- confirmed when Gaelio suddenly reaches over to clamp a hand onto McGillis's ankle.
That something is evolving. He attempts to smother the surprise out of his eyes, leaving only his matching confusion. ]
I can.
[ Rather than pull away from that grip, he leans in and over his lap, bracing a touch on Gaelio's forearm. ]
no subject
He's able to sense it, able to see it when he glances at his features, but at first he's simply certain it has something to do with the aftereffects of his strange overture. Although... those short glances eventually turn his head, once he notices the extent to which Gaelio's gaze is fixed on him. Like he looks to McGillis as a source of relief in something, in whatever ails him, rather than as the source of distress.
How wrong he is in that.
McGillis blinks, fingers falling away from the curl, attention shifting back.
It means he looks directly at him while he takes in the reply to their mutual posturing about sweets. True to form, they have different takes on both the subtle meaning behind choice and the weight of its importance. A nostalgic feeling tugs his lip up, in response to the crooked one fashioned on Gaelio's features, but the heaviness in the air keeps it from blooming.
We might.
He could pontificate further, but something is wrong -- confirmed when Gaelio suddenly reaches over to clamp a hand onto McGillis's ankle.
That something is evolving. He attempts to smother the surprise out of his eyes, leaving only his matching confusion. ]
I can.
[ Rather than pull away from that grip, he leans in and over his lap, bracing a touch on Gaelio's forearm. ]
Is something wrong?