umbralla | [for romain]

[for romain]

[It's not hard to find Ghyslain when he's not in class or the dorms - he doesn't go out a lot, and when there aren't classes in the music room, he'll most likely be there. How often do you find a giant grand piano to play, after all? Even his family had a much smaller one, slightly out of tune, which grated on someone with such a natural ear when he came back from lessons and had to practice on it.

Today he's playing something he remembers his older sister listening to; not his kind of music, but the musician was damn good on piano, so the melodies stick out and he picks them out when he hasn't got a song in mind. It's slow at first, then picks up to the actual speed of the song, light and flourishing.

He's clearly in his own world, pale eyes dreamy and head swaying back and forth. In a soft, deep voice, he tries to translate the lyrics he can remember, but they come without scansion and rhyme because it's so off the top of his head.]

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[Subtle, but it speaks loudly.]

If he's going to ruin your life because you won't give him what he wants, then it isn't love. Not one bit.

[Because even though he just told his own, painful story, he's still got his protective instinct all over Ghyslain's situation.]

I am afraid of him.

[It's admitted after a long silence, very quietly, and it sounds a lot like he's admitting it to himself as much as Romain.]

There's nothing beautiful about that.

[He really wants to be able to think of something to keep his hands off Ghyslain.]

[... no. No, there isn't. He was told exactly what he feared he'd done wrong and given an answer, but now he sees how twisted and manipulative it really was. Does he still want to go back? At least partially. But it's a guilty urge.]

Why did I say those things? Stupide, stupide...

... no. Hey. [the hand moves up to Ghyslain's arm, grounded and comforting.] Don't go calling yourself names. Whatever you're feeling right now - he made you feel it.

[made him, as in he was manipulated.]

It sucks to think that we don't have much power in this. Took me forever to see it like that.

[He swallows hard, raising his eyes to Romain's.]

You were hurt much more badly than me, I think.

What? [... no one's said that. Has anyone ever said anything about this, other than Elena? He never even thought about it.

So he turns his gaze away. He's afraid whatever might come across will be too ugly for Ghyslain to see.]

... Nah. I mean, yeah, it hurt, but she's not doing anything like this to me.

This is working because I still want to believe. You do not. Maybe you cannot.

[He's much more jaded, and that reads as much more deeply hurt to Ghyslain. There's real sadness and regret in his eyes now - not pity, but pain for Romain.]

[Still wants to believe? Yeah, he definitely remembers (and still knows) what that's like. He'd like to show Ghyslain he doesn't have to, though. Not with Fallon.

But he can't tell him to believe in him instead, either.]

... Come here.

[He puts one arm around Ghyslain's back, then brings the other around the front for a hug.]

[The statement startles him, but then Romain is pulling him close and he responds immediately, wrapping his own arms around him and tucking his face into his neck. His breathing is a bit shaky, but he doesn't cry, as much as the support makes him want to. It's almost overwhelming.]

This should have been a happy day. [They're talking again, they're friends, they may still be intimate - he should be smiling and laughing.] He is - truly, he is a fils de pute.

We'll figure something out. You're not gonna let that asshole control you.

[God. Where is this instinct even coming from. Yes, they're friends, but - they're still scratching the surface. Even if this time over it spilled blood. After a while he lifts his hand up to Ghyslain's head, caressing him with his fingers in his hair. Mimicking what he'd done to Romain.]

[He can see why Romain liked that gesture. It sends a warm, pleasant tingle through his whole body - not excited, just deeply relaxed and comforted. Softly, he sighs into Romain's neck.]

Maybe I should not, but I believe that.

[Romain just sounds so determined, almost fierce. That's comforting, too.]

[truth is he has no idea what they can do. He just drifted apart from Elena because she grew bored with him. Of course he was dramatic about it, but - never to the point of fearing for his future or well-being.

He just keeps up the gesture, then eventually leans away. That's all he can offer for now.]

[When they're facing one another again, Ghyslain offers a small, tentative smile, then places a light kiss on Romain's lips. Certainly not suggestive, and not even romantic. He just wants to.]

Tu es un bon ami, Romain.

[ahsgd. While he doesn't intently return the kiss, he relaxes his lids when their lips touch. He feels just the tiniest thrill in his stomach, but it's the first he's felt in a long while, so - he's pretty sure he made the right decision.]

Il me semblait que tu avais besoin d'un.

[His smile is happy, a bit shy.]

Peut-être c'est vrai pour nous deux. [He probably has other friends. Dozens of other friends. But this is something the two of them can understand and deal with together, which might be said of others in the school, but they found one another. That means something.]

[Despite the weight of their conversation, Romain is smiling now. He lifts his hand up to Ghyslain's face, caressing it in a more friendly than romantic manner, though the result is the same.]

Il est bon que ne m'as-tu pas déclaré à quitter.

[he's probably going to bring that up quite often.]

Ouais. [It comes out as a laugh, which softens into a kind of murmur when Romain touches him; he leans into it, sliding his cheek gently against Romain's hand, but doesn't press for more contact once it's over.]

C'est bon que j'ai chanté en Français, aussi. [He'll play along with the joke, all the things that could've tangled up their meeting or caused it never to happen. Focus on things that have gone right, not the huge thing that's gone wrong.]

[they're so dopey, help.]

You wanna go do something? Or just - you know, hang out here.

[aka make out]

[Hang out here, huh. He thinks he sees a little light in Romain's eye that he likes, so he'll take the chance.]

I like your room very much. [It's got that coy, flirtatious edge he puts on every so often, like he's testing it out or rehearsing - not confident, but an attempt.]

Oh, thanks. I take real pride in my room.

[definitely activating flirt mode. He's really relieved that this still feels easy.]

You thirsty?

[Ghyslain's not quite ready for the thrill that goes through him when he feels the full attention of Romain's charm directed at him - not just light and chatty like the first time, but actual flirting from someone who's very good at it. It coaxes a laugh out him that's embarrassingly high-pitched, more like a giggle.]

Peut-être. What do you have?

Stuff I shouldn't have.

[They're in water bottles, but hey. He sneaks out the water and replaces with alcohol with his power, because it's awesome.]

Soda? Water?

[He gets a sneaky, sly look on his face at that. He's the one who half-admitted to slipping into places around the school where he didn't belong with his gift, after all. He can roll with a bit of mischief.]

Erm - soda, s'il te plais.

I got orange.

[so he goes on and fishes it out of the fridge, returning to the bed with the can in his hand. it's cool and fresh and he's totally the perfect host.]

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