recall the night you melted my ugliness away

[dontcallmeser]

Sandor is oddly quiet today. He's not hacking at things, though he is sitting on the porch with his sword across his knees. Not sharpening it either, though, just leaning back on his hands and watching the sky. He keeps going over the past night in disbelief, wondering if on rethinking some unexpected catch will reveal itself. It hasn't yet.

And

Comments

[doctor_pascal]

Because he really needs to get out more, Pascal is on his way out, and actually lighting a cigarette - in his time, smoking wasn't considered a health hazard, and perhaps under the influence of Sam Spade, he's picked it up again.

He doesn't notice Sandor right away - he's busy reflecting on his own -- perturbing -- sexual experiences. Hurting Felix was strange. It was quickening, and he shivers when he thinks of it, but it felt also very unnatural.

He'll never tell his lover that, though.

[dontcallmeser]

Sandor does notice Pascal, though, watching him narrowly, half thoughtfully. Another strange person here - strange here meaning they don't treat him as he expects to be treated.

His mouth twists up at one corner, silent, not exactly wary, but almost. Anyone could be a danger, after all.

(And they can commiserate on that. He's still not sure how he feels about treating such a fine lady like that, with such - well, force.)

[doctor_pascal]

Pascal takes a long drag of his cigarette and leans against the railing. Only then does he notice the presence of Sandor, and he almost starts.

"Ah, bonjour," he says, almost sheepishly. "I hadn't quite noticed you. Are you well?"

[dontcallmeser]

Sandor stretches. "Yes," simply, watching Pascal with a quirk of almost amusement to his mouth. "You might consider paying more attention to your surroundings. Might serve you."