Dulled amber and emerald orbs caught the way Dudley smirked, the way the expression was twisted with a bit of sadness. He also caught the way he cut himself off as if startled by Desmond’s actions. It was cute, whatever you wanted to call it. Cute enough to bring a little color to his face again, to make things twist in the pit of his stomach, and to make him laugh nervously at the mention of the blade—at calling him a sky pirate/scientist/treasure hunter. At least he wasn’t pegging him for a watered down Indiana Jones. Archaeology was cool, but he wasn’t sure it was for him. At least not in the ‘Let’s go explore this rad cave!’ kinda way. Maybe in another fifteen years if he caught a strange bug and had the money. His own money.
He was still blushing, red splashing just under his eyes and over the bridge of his nose, as Dudley thanked him. That kind of reaction was probably going to take a while to stop—maybe. But at least it was easier to speak. Less nerve-wracking that Dudley would say no, or flat out laugh at him. Confidence—mostly restored.
“I carry around a lot. Too much,” he admitted, sighing not in dismay but acceptance. “Two semi-autos—because it’s Las Bellenas—a knife or two, hammers, Phillip’s heads, wire cutters... I think I have a pipe wrench in my ship.” He blinked, thinking that one over and then just scratched his head. “Been a while.” and then he shook his head, smiling. “And ah... y-you’re welcome.”
Desmond had a broad idea of why Dudley was so prickly; and by ‘broad’ he meant very little aside from passing observation. Always at work; always with customers; always with co-workers... Dudley didn’t have patience—probably. But Desmond imagined there was more to it than that. Just like there was more to him than the Du Blanc name, estates, and lifestyle he wanted to earn under his own keep. Or maybe an entirely different lifestyle; he could earn that instead.
Didn’t need Love Money, as much as he appreciated the parental sentiment—the allowance he did his best not to touch. He really did.
But he wanted to know more about Dudley. Why he was so angry all the time and what was going on beyond those pretty blue eyes.
By the time Dudley was tossing his apron up Desmond was stretching, reaching up with his hands and interweaving his fingers together so his palms faced flat and upward. The action drew up his shirt and revealed a bit of tummy. “Sure, Blink—Blinker?” he asked, smiling as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and slipped out the exit. “Flicker?” God, there had to be better terms for a teleporter. Maybe he’d run it through an internet thesaurus, he considered as he moved toward Lucy.
He was still blushing, red splashing just under his eyes and over the bridge of his nose, as Dudley thanked him. That kind of reaction was probably going to take a while to stop—maybe. But at least it was easier to speak. Less nerve-wracking that Dudley would say no, or flat out laugh at him. Confidence—mostly restored.
“I carry around a lot. Too much,” he admitted, sighing not in dismay but acceptance. “Two semi-autos—because it’s Las Bellenas—a knife or two, hammers, Phillip’s heads, wire cutters... I think I have a pipe wrench in my ship.” He blinked, thinking that one over and then just scratched his head. “Been a while.” and then he shook his head, smiling. “And ah... y-you’re welcome.”
Desmond had a broad idea of why Dudley was so prickly; and by ‘broad’ he meant very little aside from passing observation. Always at work; always with customers; always with co-workers... Dudley didn’t have patience—probably. But Desmond imagined there was more to it than that. Just like there was more to him than the Du Blanc name, estates, and lifestyle he wanted to earn under his own keep. Or maybe an entirely different lifestyle; he could earn that instead.
Didn’t need Love Money, as much as he appreciated the parental sentiment—the allowance he did his best not to touch. He really did.
But he wanted to know more about Dudley. Why he was so angry all the time and what was going on beyond those pretty blue eyes.
By the time Dudley was tossing his apron up Desmond was stretching, reaching up with his hands and interweaving his fingers together so his palms faced flat and upward. The action drew up his shirt and revealed a bit of tummy. “Sure, Blink—Blinker?” he asked, smiling as he stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and slipped out the exit. “Flicker?” God, there had to be better terms for a teleporter. Maybe he’d run it through an internet thesaurus, he considered as he moved toward Lucy.
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 01-28-2016, 02:20 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 01-28-2016, 01:08 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 01-28-2016, 02:30 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 01-28-2016, 05:41 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 01-28-2016, 06:40 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 01-28-2016, 10:01 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 01-28-2016, 10:47 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 02-01-2016, 10:36 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 02-01-2016, 11:32 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 02-02-2016, 12:20 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 02-02-2016, 01:06 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 02-02-2016, 01:29 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 02-02-2016, 04:32 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 02-03-2016, 12:39 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 02-03-2016, 04:54 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 02-22-2016, 06:15 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 03-05-2016, 06:23 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 04-15-2016, 01:08 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 06-12-2016, 02:19 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 08-01-2016, 11:01 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 09-24-2016, 02:23 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 03-15-2017, 10:41 PM