[“Seks” sounds enough like an English word that Gansey turns to shoot Kavinsky a look, but like before, he isn’t actually offended. It’s nothing worse than something Ronan might say in Latin, probably.]
That was more so, surely.
[Back to his gluing. This is indeed the version of Gansey that lives trapped in his own head. He won’t admit to himself what really has attention right now, and that it’s the boy he likes off with another, and that the other his best friend. Somehow, he’d misread all the signals, and he and Kavinsky had been left in the same boat. That bothers him. He isn’t quite used to being rejected, even if it wasn’t really a rejection. And maybe it bothers him more than he’s ready to acknowledge that he’d been wrong about the two people he thought he knew best in the world.]
Doesn’t it take the fun out of the joke a bit when the other person can’t understand it? I don’t even know what you’re saying at my expense.
What makes you think it was at your expense? I told you it was the sweet one, didn't I?
[He grins under the look that Gansey gives him, his eyes brightening, green that flickers like he's feeding off of it, the exact thing he wanted. And Kavinsky he lets his attention settle on him like something intentional, gaze sliding over his shoulders, like he wants to see how much of this the other boy will allow him. Something about these strange hours too far after midnight and too far from dawn, like the distance feels less than real.
K isn't really good at sweet, and both of them know it. At least, he wasn't good at being sweet with the things he said outloud, where he had to acknowledge it where people could see. Where there was vulnerability and exposing himself in a way that history said was always pain. So much of who he is was built on being all sharp edges.
There were pieces that fell away once in a while though, the closer he ended up snared in this strange mess of friends. Much like with Ronan, there small gifts when they seemed to need them: pieces dreamt for Gansey's model town or a globe of glitter for Noah. For the ever-prickly Adam they were SAT study materials and gloves when his old ones started showing holes in October. For Blue's birthday Kavinsky bought a grove of trees in her name to restore a national forest damaged by wildfires; a gps address and photos tucked into a carefully patchwork paper envelope.
There's something soft to the bonfire of a boy, but he says it better in anything but words, always like something that needs to be peeled down to reach. His mouth is always sharp, like he's hiding himself behind the things he says.]
It was more of an invitation, Gansey Boy. I'll say it again in English for you, if you want me to.
[He says it like something he's stealing, a flash of sharp white teeth under the plush red of his mouth. But there's something implicitly soft to it: if you want me to. Like an offer and asking permission all at once, even if he doesn't quite know why he does it. He's different when they're alone like this, but he's only just started noticing.
He doesn't make offers he doesn't mean, isn't willing to follow through with. It'd mean risking backing down and that isn't Kavinsky's style. Not that he thinks Gansey will say yes, but the implication under the playful heckling is that the slender Bulgarian teen would.]
no subject
That was more so, surely.
[Back to his gluing. This is indeed the version of Gansey that lives trapped in his own head. He won’t admit to himself what really has attention right now, and that it’s the boy he likes off with another, and that the other his best friend. Somehow, he’d misread all the signals, and he and Kavinsky had been left in the same boat. That bothers him. He isn’t quite used to being rejected, even if it wasn’t really a rejection. And maybe it bothers him more than he’s ready to acknowledge that he’d been wrong about the two people he thought he knew best in the world.]
Doesn’t it take the fun out of the joke a bit when the other person can’t understand it? I don’t even know what you’re saying at my expense.
no subject
[He grins under the look that Gansey gives him, his eyes brightening, green that flickers like he's feeding off of it, the exact thing he wanted. And Kavinsky he lets his attention settle on him like something intentional, gaze sliding over his shoulders, like he wants to see how much of this the other boy will allow him. Something about these strange hours too far after midnight and too far from dawn, like the distance feels less than real.
K isn't really good at sweet, and both of them know it. At least, he wasn't good at being sweet with the things he said outloud, where he had to acknowledge it where people could see. Where there was vulnerability and exposing himself in a way that history said was always pain. So much of who he is was built on being all sharp edges.
There were pieces that fell away once in a while though, the closer he ended up snared in this strange mess of friends. Much like with Ronan, there small gifts when they seemed to need them: pieces dreamt for Gansey's model town or a globe of glitter for Noah. For the ever-prickly Adam they were SAT study materials and gloves when his old ones started showing holes in October. For Blue's birthday Kavinsky bought a grove of trees in her name to restore a national forest damaged by wildfires; a gps address and photos tucked into a carefully patchwork paper envelope.
There's something soft to the bonfire of a boy, but he says it better in anything but words, always like something that needs to be peeled down to reach. His mouth is always sharp, like he's hiding himself behind the things he says.]
It was more of an invitation, Gansey Boy. I'll say it again in English for you, if you want me to.
[He says it like something he's stealing, a flash of sharp white teeth under the plush red of his mouth. But there's something implicitly soft to it: if you want me to. Like an offer and asking permission all at once, even if he doesn't quite know why he does it. He's different when they're alone like this, but he's only just started noticing.
He doesn't make offers he doesn't mean, isn't willing to follow through with. It'd mean risking backing down and that isn't Kavinsky's style. Not that he thinks Gansey will say yes, but the implication under the playful heckling is that the slender Bulgarian teen would.]