[Gepard makes a face at the name, his nose wrinkling. Figaro. He knows a fake name when he hears one, usually, and here's the thing. The fact he's given a fake name? Reasonable in itself. He expected it. Gepard had given him an opening, and he hadn't expected the unfortunately handsome stranger to respond with an honest name. No, that's not the problem in itself.
No, the problem is that the guy called himself Figaro. Not the worst name? There's worse names. Gerard. Rupert. Elmo. But also, it's not the sort of name that Gepard wants to fantasize about, and he realizes in that moment (with a terrible clarity that he hates) that he's absolutely going to fantasize about some guy who calls himself Figaro. His dreams are going to be haunted by Figaro.
But there's no way Gepard's going to tell Figaro that he's got the sort of face he can see himself falling in love with. Gepard doesn't. He just takes that thought, unproductive as it is, and shoves it aside in his head. Gone. Banished.
They should focus on more important things, but- Gepard shakes his head, touches whatever he can of...damned Figaro he can. An arm, a hand.]
...before you do, I know I taste... [Terrible. Awful. Horrible, apparently.] Regrettable. But when's the last time you've ate something? [...] ...er, someone? [Is that the word for it?]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-04-12 02:09 am (UTC)No, the problem is that the guy called himself Figaro. Not the worst name? There's worse names. Gerard. Rupert. Elmo. But also, it's not the sort of name that Gepard wants to fantasize about, and he realizes in that moment (with a terrible clarity that he hates) that he's absolutely going to fantasize about some guy who calls himself Figaro. His dreams are going to be haunted by Figaro.
But there's no way Gepard's going to tell Figaro that he's got the sort of face he can see himself falling in love with. Gepard doesn't. He just takes that thought, unproductive as it is, and shoves it aside in his head. Gone. Banished.
They should focus on more important things, but- Gepard shakes his head, touches whatever he can of...damned Figaro he can. An arm, a hand.]
...before you do, I know I taste... [Terrible. Awful. Horrible, apparently.] Regrettable. But when's the last time you've ate something? [...] ...er, someone? [Is that the word for it?]