[ It's such a gentle smile. Ganymede, beneath the light layer of indignant defensiveness, is unapologetic about who he is. Softer than he seems.
For a moment it makes Michel want to bolt. If Ganymede really is as gentle as that then he should find comfort from someone who isn't entirely icy, sharp edges. And if he isn't, then this is all... Michel stares at Ganymede's hand in silence before slowly, as if in a trance, reaching out to take it and sitting down beside him again. ]
I wanted to be strong, yes. It was a child's daydream.
[ There's a note of finality in that that he doesn't know how to soften. But the look he turns towards Ganymede is just a little lost, and the hand that isn't holding Ganymede's slides towards Ganymede's back before faltering again. Talking is hard. Gestures like this are harder. ]
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For a moment it makes Michel want to bolt. If Ganymede really is as gentle as that then he should find comfort from someone who isn't entirely icy, sharp edges. And if he isn't, then this is all... Michel stares at Ganymede's hand in silence before slowly, as if in a trance, reaching out to take it and sitting down beside him again. ]
I wanted to be strong, yes. It was a child's daydream.
[ There's a note of finality in that that he doesn't know how to soften. But the look he turns towards Ganymede is just a little lost, and the hand that isn't holding Ganymede's slides towards Ganymede's back before faltering again. Talking is hard. Gestures like this are harder. ]