[ Hubert’s hands still in his hair, and Ferdinand’s heart leaps into his throat with… with what, he’s not certain. Anticipation? Fear? Hope? He can’t help but feel that he’s suddenly sent speeding away on a road for which he has no map, with no idea of the intended destination. It could just as easily send him careening off a cliff as it could see him someplace safe and warm.
And perhaps Hubert, too, has no idea where this is going. His questions come at him like curves in the road, and all Ferdinand can do is lean into them with the hope that he doesn’t crash and burn.
Ferdinand’s fingers curl into the edge of the tablecloth, eyes squarely upon the half-full teacup left to cool on the table. Another breeze sets the surface of the liquid rippling. ]
If you do not wish me to tell you, then I will not, but I think you already know that I am.
no subject
And perhaps Hubert, too, has no idea where this is going. His questions come at him like curves in the road, and all Ferdinand can do is lean into them with the hope that he doesn’t crash and burn.
Ferdinand’s fingers curl into the edge of the tablecloth, eyes squarely upon the half-full teacup left to cool on the table. Another breeze sets the surface of the liquid rippling. ]
If you do not wish me to tell you, then I will not, but I think you already know that I am.