[ Your destination is on the right-hand side, says the GPS and he's preparing to park the car, when Claude reaches out and pats his knee, encouraging him to - what? Contact him again? A second date, maybe a third? For a long moment, he's quiet. The other man's unexpected touch lingers long after he's pulled away, his knee and leg tingling slightly from it. He shifts slightly in his seat, driving up to the curb. He doesn't know what to say - under normal circumstances, he would probably laugh, not too kindly, then make a promise he'd never bother to keep.
I'd be glad to hear from you again. And likewise, he thinks. On the one hand, he'd be... more than glad. Whilst on the other, he's not altogether sure why, seeing as it doesn't actively change anything here and now, it leaves him with exactly the same as always, except... maybe. It leaves him with maybe and, well, logically speaking, that's bound to be a little bit better than nothing, isn't it? Except - maybe? Maybe what?
Dear Gods. Headache inducing. ]
I'll remember. [ A small smile. ] Do get home safely. The few metres you've got left.
[ He watches the other man carefully, suddenly intent on following him with his gaze all the way up to his front door. It's a strange urge, feels almost like desperation, and he can't quite understand why. It's been one evening, yet he can't help but feel that letting this man slip through his fingers might very well be a grave mistake. One he'd remember for a very long time. ]
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I'd be glad to hear from you again. And likewise, he thinks. On the one hand, he'd be... more than glad. Whilst on the other, he's not altogether sure why, seeing as it doesn't actively change anything here and now, it leaves him with exactly the same as always, except... maybe. It leaves him with maybe and, well, logically speaking, that's bound to be a little bit better than nothing, isn't it? Except - maybe? Maybe what?
Dear Gods. Headache inducing. ]
I'll remember. [ A small smile. ] Do get home safely. The few metres you've got left.
[ He watches the other man carefully, suddenly intent on following him with his gaze all the way up to his front door. It's a strange urge, feels almost like desperation, and he can't quite understand why. It's been one evening, yet he can't help but feel that letting this man slip through his fingers might very well be a grave mistake. One he'd remember for a very long time. ]