Daniel has never, ever, experienced a weirder fan than Armand.
He looks up at him, finding him both ethereal and comedic in his disguise— which is still more convincing as a real person than his performance as Rashid; in retrospect his dark eyes were fake-looking, though he thinks Armand was less controlled. More willing to snipe and argue. Freedom when he wasn't being himself. Interesting.
"Innate romance?" Eyebrows up, as he slides the book towards himself. "Can the bus not also love?"
Shut up, Daniel. But there's a part of him that almost looks over his shoulder like Armand isn't speaking to him, surely. Innate romance.
"Compelled towards what?"
His hand, pen held, hovers over the blank page facing the dedication (to all the editors who dropped him over this one). Steady.
no subject
He looks up at him, finding him both ethereal and comedic in his disguise— which is still more convincing as a real person than his performance as Rashid; in retrospect his dark eyes were fake-looking, though he thinks Armand was less controlled. More willing to snipe and argue. Freedom when he wasn't being himself. Interesting.
"Innate romance?" Eyebrows up, as he slides the book towards himself. "Can the bus not also love?"
Shut up, Daniel. But there's a part of him that almost looks over his shoulder like Armand isn't speaking to him, surely. Innate romance.
"Compelled towards what?"
His hand, pen held, hovers over the blank page facing the dedication (to all the editors who dropped him over this one). Steady.