It sits in his chest, a glowing ember of pleasure. He's doing well, he's making Daddy proud, and he's still, still his love. (Even if Rin doesn't like him.) His smile returns full-force, and the hurt doesn't feel quite as present any longer. He's loved, and he's important -
And Darius is showing up for him. His smile vanishes before surprise, a little parting of his lips and a darted look back and forth between Rin and Darius. (He doesn't want to piss anyone off. He doesn't want to get in trouble. (He doesn't want them to like him less, he -))
Enri hadn't expected anything at all from Darius - only to convey, quietly, that he wasn't feeling it. The subtle snub, the sense of being cut off from the group. (Left out.) He hadn't wanted to be rude to Darius's friends, of course. Fuck with them a bit, sure.
He's not certain how to take the flap of a hand at first. That casual dismissal that seems as though in answer to Darius asserting he's a clever man. (All evidence to the contrary at the moment.) Then they speak, and he raises his brows slightly and thinks about pointing out that the floor at large probably knows what's going on.
But saying that means admitting he knows what they're talking about.
He resorts to nodding dumbly at the translation, his eyes wide, his eyes flickering to Darius, then Sen -
Sen, who was staring at him. Sen, resting the side of a long forefinger against his lips, his scrutiny just a little too...knowing.
(Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, Darius told him in a text. He said something about Enri having a facility for languages. He overplayed that one, fuck fuck fuck fuck.) (When in doubt, play dumb.)
Turns out, he doesn't need to do anything at all. Saved by the sound of raised voices; Sen whips his head around, and off he goes, vaulting over the opposite sofa to help break up the fight between Jerry, Simon (that's his fucking name, the prick), and a waiter who tried to get them moving faster out the door.
For a sick guy, Enri thinks Sen moves pretty fast. (He does not think he should say this out loud.)
Instead, he slowly returns his attention to Rin, his arm tightening around Darius.
The thing is. The thing is, he usually knows what to say to people, but right now he's at a total loss for words.
The thing is, Rin is about Daddy's height, and terrifying in a not-Darius way.
He needs to fucking say something. Say anything. ]
Nice place.
[ Fuck. That's going to sound facetious, what with the fight over there. He extracts a hand and grimaces, holds it out and gestures no no, didn't mean that. ]
I mean - it is. I'm not being shitty or anything.
[ He shouldn't have said 'shitty'.
He feels a little cold-numb, his tongue settling heavy, and looks down, turning his attention to futzing with Darius's hand. ]
no subject
It sits in his chest, a glowing ember of pleasure. He's doing well, he's making Daddy proud, and he's still, still his love. (Even if Rin doesn't like him.) His smile returns full-force, and the hurt doesn't feel quite as present any longer. He's loved, and he's important -
And Darius is showing up for him. His smile vanishes before surprise, a little parting of his lips and a darted look back and forth between Rin and Darius. (He doesn't want to piss anyone off. He doesn't want to get in trouble. (He doesn't want them to like him less, he -))
Enri hadn't expected anything at all from Darius - only to convey, quietly, that he wasn't feeling it. The subtle snub, the sense of being cut off from the group. (Left out.) He hadn't wanted to be rude to Darius's friends, of course. Fuck with them a bit, sure.
He's not certain how to take the flap of a hand at first. That casual dismissal that seems as though in answer to Darius asserting he's a clever man. (All evidence to the contrary at the moment.) Then they speak, and he raises his brows slightly and thinks about pointing out that the floor at large probably knows what's going on.
But saying that means admitting he knows what they're talking about.
He resorts to nodding dumbly at the translation, his eyes wide, his eyes flickering to Darius, then Sen -
Sen, who was staring at him. Sen, resting the side of a long forefinger against his lips, his scrutiny just a little too...knowing.
(Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, Darius told him in a text. He said something about Enri having a facility for languages. He overplayed that one, fuck fuck fuck fuck.) (When in doubt, play dumb.)
Turns out, he doesn't need to do anything at all. Saved by the sound of raised voices; Sen whips his head around, and off he goes, vaulting over the opposite sofa to help break up the fight between Jerry, Simon (that's his fucking name, the prick), and a waiter who tried to get them moving faster out the door.
For a sick guy, Enri thinks Sen moves pretty fast. (He does not think he should say this out loud.)
Instead, he slowly returns his attention to Rin, his arm tightening around Darius.
The thing is. The thing is, he usually knows what to say to people, but right now he's at a total loss for words.
The thing is, Rin is about Daddy's height, and terrifying in a not-Darius way.
He needs to fucking say something. Say anything. ]
Nice place.
[ Fuck. That's going to sound facetious, what with the fight over there. He extracts a hand and grimaces, holds it out and gestures no no, didn't mean that. ]
I mean - it is. I'm not being shitty or anything.
[ He shouldn't have said 'shitty'.
He feels a little cold-numb, his tongue settling heavy, and looks down, turning his attention to futzing with Darius's hand. ]