IS IT CAN BE HURTING FIRO TIEM NAO?
Luck had always thought Firo had a very strange fascination with his hat. Not only did he seem to permanently have it on his head (Luck had even seen the boy sleeping with it on, the once) but even while fighting he seemed to keep it as a very close second in importance to his own life. It was unusual. Luck wondered, perhaps, if it was because Maiza had bought it for him; Firo did seem to look up to him rather a lot, so the attachment did make sense.
He was surprised, therefore, to walk into the office Firo was using to find the hat not on the boy's head - it was, in fact, completely out of sight. The boy himself seemed unusually flushed, possibly embarrassed about not wearing the hat - his hair was in slight disarray, at that. Luck supposed it was of no consequence; they exchanged greetings, Firo interestingly using the wrong hand for the usual handshake, and set to business.
It was only when they got to territory discussion that Luck realised just how uncomfortable Firo looked. It wasn't like the other to rush business, but he seemed distracted - his mind, apparently, somewhere else completely.
"There something wrong?" Luck decided to ask him, tone holding a light concern; Firo shook his head immediately, a little too fast for it to be truthful, and Luck decided to ask. "Where's your hat?"
Firo, apparently not exactly a master of hiding what was concerning him just yet, blushed vividly. Luck looked about the room, came up with nothing. It was then that he made the mistake - or, perhaps, the correct decision - of looking under the table. The hat, Luck noted with more amusement than anything else, was currently adorned on a very different head. The boy's hand was clenched about the hat, at that - Luck tried, very hard indeed, not to laugh.
When he looked up again, raising one eyebrow, Firo's eyes were lowered to the table.
"I can explain." He said. It was obvious that he couldn't.
"You'll ruin that hat," Luck said, "which will be a pity. It suits you." He wandered about the table, sitting on Firo's side of it, looking down at the boy with amusement more in his eyes than his face.
"Well." Firo tried to chuckle; it came out strangled, as if this were a situation in which he thought he'd never find himself. Luck hadn't really thought this was something that would happen, either; he'd heard of men lusting over some strange objects, gold, riches of course, but never haberdashery. Each to their own, he supposed. And, well. The boy was clearly in need of relief, and they really did need to conclude business today.
"Let me help," he said with a chuckle, and even as Firo's eyes widened he reached down, plucking the hat away from the boy, and placing it on the table. He laughed, just slightly, at the look of disappointment on Firo's face; the look changed, somewhat, when Luck replaced the hat with his hand. "We've got a lot to get through today."
"Uhm--" Firo's strangled noise was questioning, and Luck laughed again, leaning forward into the younger man's neck to murmur:
"Or maybe, I should wear the hat."
"I wouldn't," was Firo's honest, breathy answer.
I REGRET NOTHING
He was surprised, therefore, to walk into the office Firo was using to find the hat not on the boy's head - it was, in fact, completely out of sight. The boy himself seemed unusually flushed, possibly embarrassed about not wearing the hat - his hair was in slight disarray, at that. Luck supposed it was of no consequence; they exchanged greetings, Firo interestingly using the wrong hand for the usual handshake, and set to business.
It was only when they got to territory discussion that Luck realised just how uncomfortable Firo looked. It wasn't like the other to rush business, but he seemed distracted - his mind, apparently, somewhere else completely.
"There something wrong?" Luck decided to ask him, tone holding a light concern; Firo shook his head immediately, a little too fast for it to be truthful, and Luck decided to ask. "Where's your hat?"
Firo, apparently not exactly a master of hiding what was concerning him just yet, blushed vividly. Luck looked about the room, came up with nothing. It was then that he made the mistake - or, perhaps, the correct decision - of looking under the table. The hat, Luck noted with more amusement than anything else, was currently adorned on a very different head. The boy's hand was clenched about the hat, at that - Luck tried, very hard indeed, not to laugh.
When he looked up again, raising one eyebrow, Firo's eyes were lowered to the table.
"I can explain." He said. It was obvious that he couldn't.
"You'll ruin that hat," Luck said, "which will be a pity. It suits you." He wandered about the table, sitting on Firo's side of it, looking down at the boy with amusement more in his eyes than his face.
"Well." Firo tried to chuckle; it came out strangled, as if this were a situation in which he thought he'd never find himself. Luck hadn't really thought this was something that would happen, either; he'd heard of men lusting over some strange objects, gold, riches of course, but never haberdashery. Each to their own, he supposed. And, well. The boy was clearly in need of relief, and they really did need to conclude business today.
"Let me help," he said with a chuckle, and even as Firo's eyes widened he reached down, plucking the hat away from the boy, and placing it on the table. He laughed, just slightly, at the look of disappointment on Firo's face; the look changed, somewhat, when Luck replaced the hat with his hand. "We've got a lot to get through today."
"Uhm--" Firo's strangled noise was questioning, and Luck laughed again, leaning forward into the younger man's neck to murmur:
"Or maybe, I should wear the hat."
"I wouldn't," was Firo's honest, breathy answer.
I REGRET NOTHING