[It's not quite to the level of a strong forearm clasp. He grips Connor's hand softly, fingers curling loosely, marvelling at the realness of what the other has all but stated was made by human hands. Made as he is, not born and transformed.
Warmer than a wearh. The distinction sticks with him because he'd come to learn about Matthew just like this once, long ago. Questioning. Studying. Taking his hand when offered. Tentatively at first, faced with one of their species up close for the very first time, and then more avidly when his throat remained whole and untorn. And all the while Matthew had indulged him, patient. Smiling in that little knowing way when he marked the long silences between heartbeats in his wrist and had startled to watch him heal from a cut for the first time.
He remembers that the most--not his desire to see, but Matthew's willingness to share and be seen. Faced with each new discovery, his first instinct is still to turn around and share it with Matthew... and each time, he remembers. The past is distant for Connor but fresh for him.
He shakes it off. It doesn't detract from the momentousness of the discovery in the here and now. Turning the other's hand, he feathers the pads of two fingers against his inner wrist, looking up from his study with a smile of genuine disbelief.]
You certainly seem alive, Connor. How is it you could be the likes of an automaton?
[The definition of lifelike scarcely seems enough to contain the mere conceit of him.]
Christopher Marlowe. [And if they are to each embody the image of men... He switches his grip to shake Connor's hand properly, as it is done in Carcosa's decade.] Kit.
no subject
Warmer than a wearh. The distinction sticks with him because he'd come to learn about Matthew just like this once, long ago. Questioning. Studying. Taking his hand when offered. Tentatively at first, faced with one of their species up close for the very first time, and then more avidly when his throat remained whole and untorn. And all the while Matthew had indulged him, patient. Smiling in that little knowing way when he marked the long silences between heartbeats in his wrist and had startled to watch him heal from a cut for the first time.
He remembers that the most--not his desire to see, but Matthew's willingness to share and be seen. Faced with each new discovery, his first instinct is still to turn around and share it with Matthew... and each time, he remembers. The past is distant for Connor but fresh for him.
He shakes it off. It doesn't detract from the momentousness of the discovery in the here and now. Turning the other's hand, he feathers the pads of two fingers against his inner wrist, looking up from his study with a smile of genuine disbelief.]
You certainly seem alive, Connor. How is it you could be the likes of an automaton?
[The definition of lifelike scarcely seems enough to contain the mere conceit of him.]
Christopher Marlowe. [And if they are to each embody the image of men... He switches his grip to shake Connor's hand properly, as it is done in Carcosa's decade.] Kit.