[Wilhelm smiles softly under the kiss nestled against his temple. When he's with Rhy, he catches himself waiting for little tokens of affection like this, counting and measuring them. His brain, a mess of defense mechanisms engineered on behalf of his heart, makes excuses for the importance he misplaces on these moments. It writes off any meaning in his own intentions — and certainly any meaning in Rhy's actions.
He's still in love with Simon. That's the truest thing he knows.
Withdrawing from the embrace, Wilhelm moves toward the fire to place the little wooden frog on the narrow mantle the stretches over the hearth. Already perched there is a glass snow globe encompassing a tranquil pond in a tiny wood.]
Now I feel bad that I didn't get you anything.
[And he does look sheepish, tucking his hair behind his ear.]
no subject
He's still in love with Simon. That's the truest thing he knows.
Withdrawing from the embrace, Wilhelm moves toward the fire to place the little wooden frog on the narrow mantle the stretches over the hearth. Already perched there is a glass snow globe encompassing a tranquil pond in a tiny wood.]
Now I feel bad that I didn't get you anything.
[And he does look sheepish, tucking his hair behind his ear.]