”Inside, I’ve been dead for a long time. But my physical shell is not yet gone from this world.” Though it was most definitely dramatic sarcasm, for a moment all sense was gone, with Garçon hanging on every poetic word. He was able to snap out of the trance after a second. He’d just liked the way the stranger spoke there, especially as the dramatic, humor-loving fan of all things theatre. A chuckle escaped his parted lips, but before he could reply, a flick of the boy’s deep brown eyes directed his attention to the hand that seemed glued to his white-clad shoulder. He didn’t seem so happy as he inquired whether Garçon’s hand had gotten stuck there ‘or what’. Still somewhat hazy, Garçon removed his hand. He did not appear reluctant while doing this, though he was. The boy was a quick eater, almost all of the spirals were gone from the plate, leaving only chunky strokes of red tomato sauce. Meanwhile, Garçon hadn’t touched his food, much less given it a glance. He was focused on carnival boy. “You’re quite the fast eater, aren’t you?” The words were spoken innocently enough to be a casual remark, but with a smug enough tone to seem like an innuendo as well, spoken with his tongue poking out from between his lips, playful eyes switching between the boy and his tray.
He laughed harder at the boy’s sarcasm. It was not only incredibly humorous to Garçon, it was an incredibly adorable part of the stranger’s long awaited personality. His smile was genuine, eyes creased and sparkling. “You don’t say. Even at a school full of magic, pizza still gets cold and dried up just like the outside world?” He picked up the slice by its crust, pouting at it in mock-disappointment. "Tsk. Thank you for enlightening me, mon ami. " His teeth pierced the crust as he took a large, satisfying bite, still staring at the person in front of him. He was a fan of eye contact, but he didn’t usually go this far. But he couldn’t take his eyes off of him, in case some crowd of people cross his view and let him vanish again. He grinned softly, holding out the slice to him, bitten end dangling inches from his lips. “Want a bite?”
He shifted in his seat somewhat uncomfortably, despite Garçon’s puppy-like friendliness and open energy, but Garçon didn’t feel the need to back down because of this. He could make anyone his friend (hopefully this person a more-than-friend), he could be likable to anyone. Who wouldn’t like him? He smiled strangely, perhaps he didn’t believe Garçon despite his genuine, meaningful tone. It wasn’t that he didn’t get teased or anything, he just learned how to toss his head back and laugh, eyes closed, chest heaving, at nearly everything. How to turn a joke to his favor, how to never take things personally. Maybe Grégorie Leclair wasn’t that way. But what could be said of a name like that? Maybe Grégorie Eclair, the long, filling stuffed donuts. At least those were delicious.
His smile showed a bit of reluctance, he wasn’t easily trusting. Garçon wondered what it was about himself that put Grégorie off so quickly. Perhaps a mixture of the boy’s skeptical untrusting nature, and Garçon’s overwhelming confidence. It couldn’t be his handsomeness, could it? In his eyes, Grégorie was intensely more so. Well, Garçon would warm him up in no time. His cheeks (flesh toned) felt hot, as well as his hand, touching Grégorie‘s. It was different than touching his shoulder through cloth, his direct, warm skin on Garçon’s. It felt like a large electric wave coursing up his arm. He smiled broadly, one side of the smile tilting up in an adorably crooked way.
Their hands stayed linked for a bit of a long time, like a contest to see who would let go first. Meanwhile their brown eyes did the same, like an unspoken staring contest. Grégorie would be the one to look away in the end. Because unlike him, Garçon didn’t want to. As the warm hand left and Garçon’s germs were wiped away, their eyes stayed connected in a final battle. ”Do we know each other? I mean, have we met before?” A small gap showed between his lips, did he know? Did he remember the smiling, slightly sweaty, purple and blue lit, curly haired boy from that night? Were the memories coming back to him now, flowing through his mind, sending his heart pounding like a snare drum? Had he seen Garçon? Did he want him the same way? Or was he suspicious? A mind-reader? Garçon’s eyes lingered on Grégorie‘s cheek. Then slowly, he leaned across the table, eyes still on the boy’s cheekbone. His fingers brushed against it, wiping away a few stray hairs as well as a dab of tomato sauce. While they were so close, his eyes met Grégorie’s before he leaned back to answer the question as if nothing had happened. “Why do you ask? Do I look familiar to you? Perhaps you’ve seen me in your dreams…or your fantasies…” He trailed off mischievously, desperately awaiting a response. I know you’ve been in mine…
@sunflower.flow - grégorie : JDJJFJF OMG NO U- i had fun writing this, nglll!! And the shade was everything i am living for those moments- and everything else because i ship these two so hard~ also about the uniform, it came in a package with the invite, so it could be in the closet, yes!!! LOVE THE FIT- will mention next time <3 <3 <3