[ He releases a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding, a silent whistle that ruffles his bangs and loosens his expression just enough so that the arms-breadth smile fades. At heart, Claude only has a limited frame of reference for people (the only exception being his half-brother), and his rationalization of what he's just seen swerves towards more unflattering diagnoses: disease, malignancy, infection.
(Who knew that something so 'nasty' could be so beautiful?) ]
—Oh, I would've given a lot of things to be present for that particular operation.
[ He slumps in his chair, puts one soaked glove over his eyes to cool himself down. The smile flits on and off, but somehow manages to find itself again. ]
no subject
(Who knew that something so 'nasty' could be so beautiful?) ]
—Oh, I would've given a lot of things to be present for that particular operation.
[ He slumps in his chair, puts one soaked glove over his eyes to cool himself down. The smile flits on and off, but somehow manages to find itself again. ]