at his side. It’s not that he feels out of place - Zevran is very aware of his attractiveness - but that he still knows that there is something inside of him that should *not* be here. He’ll bask in it, while he can manage to have it.
returning the favor of tucking one of the flowers behind Illario’s ear in turn instead of saying anything for a moment.
“We *are* on an outing together, no? Now we match.”
Zevran grins cheekily, and then allows his attention to be swept away by the beauty of the garden around him, of Illario+
quiet voice, Zevran’s gaze lifts to Illario, head tilted to the side as he offers him a small, terrifically genuine smile; feeling the way his cheeks flush with the honesty he’s offering Illario in this moment. It’s only a moment, only long enough for Illario, and then he tucks it away. Settles on+
the soft give beneath the touch, the way it bounces back. Some part of him demands that he shy away, offer him a flavorless thank you, demands he stop being *gentle*, because it’s going to expose him to hurts, but Zevran is versed in flower language.
*Admiration*.
Instead of listening to the+
feels tight again when Illario tucks one of them behind his ear, into his hair. They’re beautiful flowers, and Zevran cradles them like something precious in his palms, as if he’s scared that holding them too tightly will destroy them.
His thumb brushes over the silk-velvet of the petals, studying+
Orange Ranunculus flowers.
Zevran feels something catch and constrict in his chest at the action. His breath, maybe, because he refuses to acknowledge the option that it might be something - *else*, despite the way he takes the flowers Illario offers him with gentle fingers, the way his chest+
crushes it beneath the heel of his boot; settles more comfortably against Viago’s chest and scoops up the glass still left on his desk to bring it to his mouth.
He doesn’t think he has it in him to try to let others fill the wanting a third time.
“In any case, I would trust you to make me a new pair of gloves, should it please you.” As always, Zevran swallows the wanting down,+
said and done. It’s the fatal flaw of mortals, he thinks, watching Viago turn away from him, watches the tips of his ears flush with his embarrassment; they’re born wanting, waiting for whatever fills that wanting. Zevran thought he found what would fill his - twice over.+
despite the way his smile gentles with longing without his knowledge, gold eyes turning liquid honey. He wants, he knows he wants; Zevran has always been desperate for someone to want him, even for a little while, even if in the end all they want him for is to turn him into a weapon when all is+
Viago towards him, and then spending time with him with no expectation had made him a touch more comfortable. It makes something in him feel warm and satisfied that he could do so much, already; watching Viago’s gaze soften as he studies Zevran’s face.
*That*, he thinks, is a little too raw;+
feigned offense.
“Ah, but I would know quality, it would be spitting in my face!” Zevran’s brow wags, mouth still pulled into a sly smile as he settles into the banter. He hadn’t been expecting it - not with Viago, certainly not now, but - apparently, managing his way into their bed had softened+
Zevran startles, a laugh curling out of him as Viago pokes at his side. Teases him. *Plays* with him. A game of pretend, half flirtatious, half *silly*. It’s… Zevran is still surprised, comfortably - *pleasantly* so, leaning back into Viago’s hold on him as he laughs again, this time at Viago’s+
Dweller, attempting to reason with fascists won't work. You must throw them off a balcony.
Zevran offers in a smile in return to Illario at the suggestion.
“I do not think that I would mind all that much, spending time merely walking with you. Since you offer, of course.”
Orlais and terraced gardens in Kirkwall, whilst he had been there, even to the beautiful gardens in Antiva City and those few that survived Rialto’s ruin, but he’s never been given the opportunity to *enjoy* them, not like this. There’s a warmth in his chest, a sense of pleasure that+
a bit shocking, no? Have you read many of them, then?” Zevran’s grin is equally as teasing; attention caught by something out of the corner of his eye and causing his head to turn. And - *oh*, but the gardens are beautiful.
Zevran has plenty to compare them to; sprawling ground gardens in+
Rot always chose the prettiest locations to hide behind.
Illario’s offer to show him to the library, later, draws a laugh from him as well; quietly delighted in the knowledge that the villa’s library held such books.
“Ah, is that so? Perhaps I should have expected as much, but the knowledge is+
the same as it was for his own House. At the same time, however, there would be differences; some soft moments perhaps that both of them could lay claim to within the halls of the Villa. Zevran had none of those, and nor, he thinks, would he ever want to.+
wrought - stone could not be torn down so easily by *hand* - but he was sure that charred remains still darkened some of the masonry. A satisfying thought. And a fitting comparison, he thinks; from what he had heard of Illario and Lucanis, something within the walls was rotten, in some way; much+
Picturesque, Zevran thinks. It’s all incredibly… picturesque.
Of course, the seat of House Arainai had looked much the same, whilst they had had it; Zevran had been particularly satisfied to set it to some degree of ruin the first time round. The next two Talons had repaired what damage he had +
me to agree to things. But- you *didn’t* ask. Merely implied, no?”
His tone is teasing as he takes the offered glove with his other hand, thumb running over the seam.
“Acceptable work,” he decides, with another pompous nod; tone still teasing.
be* - charmed by him.)
He laughs softly at the teasing tone, studying their hands with a drawn out, thoughtful hum. With all the flair and pomp he can manage - quite a bit, even lounging over Viago like a cat - he huffs a sigh.
“But of course, mi vida! Written requests are the best way to get+
*Talons*, in specific, especially those like the ones he had handled himself - and he can’t decide if it’s charming that Viago wants to reassure him of his sincerity with his Fledglings training and care under his hand.
(It is, charming; Zevran merely knows that he shouldn’t want to be - *can’t+
*Thank the maker Fledglings have better organizational skills these days*.
Zevran’s smile gentles, some small ball of tension in his chest loosening with the all-but blatant statement Viago offered up. He was sure, to some degree, that Viago was aware of Zevran’s feelings about the Crows - about +
I was joking, I needed a little whimsy, not to feel mushy. What the hell
》 #ooc
Why are you being poetic on bluesky you dweeb
》 #ooc
You need to stop rizzing people up :/ How am I supposed to compete, woe, woe
》 #ooc
Without downloading any new pics, where are you mentally?:
The extra "P" in Vipperquin will boost your armor stats, Dweller.