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“Come out, ombre!” Gustave shouted, looking up at the trees scattered with red leaves. He could feel eyes on him. He could since the moment they left Lumière, and they were unrelenting. Camp wasn't too far behind Gustave, and he decided to take his watch trying to find this shadow.
It was too dark. He couldn't see the shadow, whoever they were, but he could sure as hell sense them. Their feet made a branch creak, threatening to snap if any other weight was placed on it. Their breathing was heavy. They were closer than intended, Gustave mused as he walked to the source of the sounds. If it was the White-Haired man, Gustave promised himself he'd lead the man far away from their camp. As far as he could without dying.
Another creak, and the shift of boots. Gustave was getting closer now, he was sure of it. The shadow was getting nervous. He wondered who could be out here watching them? Was it a fellow Expeditioner? A Lumièrian who showed away? It wasn't a Nevron. Nevrons would have attacked by now. Though it could be a White Nevron, they were too light in colour to hide in the shadows like this.
“Are you going to stay there and wait for me to discover you, mon ombre?” Gustave asked, and again, no answer. Whoever this was—they were stubborn. That was endearing, but still very annoying, “If you aren't going to bolt off, then jump down from the tree and show me who's been stalking us for the last few days, at least.”
A soft hum came from the branches, and Gustave shot his eyes up to where the sound came from. Close enough now, he could see the form of his shadow, but not the face.
“I know where you're at. Just jump down already.”
“...”
Gustave heard a soft, slightly shaky exhale come from the figure before they jumped down from the branches. The moon lit up their- his pale skin, a dark scar running across his left eye, and his hair black with a white streak swirling in the front. Those silver eyes peered into Gustave’s soul, and he couldn't hold back the flush in his cheeks. They were so beautiful. So sharp and precise.
“Bonjour, mon ombre.”
“Verso.” The shadow—Verso—corrected. Gustave nodded and shifted on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. This wasn't a person he knew from Lumière, which was impossible. Everyone knew everyone since the Gommage had whittled down the number of humans living on The Continent.
“Verso.” Gustave repeated, “How are you alive? Are you with that White-Haired man?” He asked, taking a step closer and narrowing his eyes at Verso. He looked about the same age as himself, but the dark circles, blood, viscera, and dirt scattered across his pale skin made him look much older and much more weary.
“Renoir? No.” Verso said immediately, leaning against the trunk of the tree he had been hiding in, “And how I'm alive is a long-winded story that will likely make you have an entire existential crisis.”
“I'm not going anywhere.”
“Did you hear the second part of that sentence?" Gustave shrugged, and Verso found himself rolling his eyes at the man. My God, these Expeditioners will never give up the second you give them even a hint of information.
Both men stared at each other, unrelenting in their different motives. The silence stretched for minutes, and when Gustave assumed that Verso wouldn't say anything for as long as he was on watch, he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his face with his hand.
“Alright, since I'm clearly not getting an answer to that question, would you at least answer why you're stalking us?” Gustave questioned, watching Verso for any lies or work-arounds in his answer.
“You're an Expedition.” Verso said simply, “You want to beat The Paintress. I've been clearing out the hardest Nevrons from your path so you have a better chance.”
“Why not just join us, then?”
Verso scoffed and glanced to the side, his grey eyes dulling as a frown pulled on the edges of his lips, “I've seen too many Expeditions die. Some because of me.” Julie… Verso thought, his heart clenching with guilt, …we could have talked it out..
“How many.” Gustave interrogated, “How many Expeditions did you see die?” Verso went quiet once more, and Gustave let out a loud groan. He wouldn't get answers from this man! Nothing! Tiring little shadow, isn't he?
“Look.” Verso started, eventually locking eyes with Gustave again, “I don't want my history to be the reason you all die. That Lumina Converter is giving you the best chance you could possibly have, okay? Just keep going forward.”
“I'm not letting you stalk us now that I know who you are, ombre.”
“Don't… call me that.”
“Fine.” Gustave muttered in exasperation, “You can play it sensible. But we could use your help. You're clearly not just good for clearing out Nevrons.” He pointed out, taking a step closer and staring into those steel eyes.
“I'm fine with the part I'm playing.”
“You're barely playing a part.” Gustave shot back, holding his gloved hand out towards Verso, “You can help us defeat The Paintress. The cycle of death won't stop if you isolate yourself from every opportunity.”
“Your Expeditions are onto something. Really, something. But I can't help you. I can only clear the path so far.” Verso mutters, looking away from the hand and feeling his chest clenched with the lie.
“You're good at lying, I'll admit.” Gustave hummed out. He lifted his hand and grabbed Verso's chin, forcing those silver eyes to lock onto his warm brown ones, “But even a child could see through that. Is this really how you want to spend your years? Hiding in misery?”
Verso bit back a soft whine, his cheeks flushing bright red, “If I helped you, everyone in your party is more likely to die.” He pointed out, forcing his breaths steady as he stared into those intense brown eyes.
“Or we could live. We could beat The Paintress, and you can live the rest of your life outside of her shadow.” Gustave retorted quickly, his grip on Verso's chin getting a little tighter before he slowly pulled his hand away, “But I guess I'll leave that up to you.”
“Wait-” Verso snatched Gustave's wrist, his silver eyes pleading, “You make a point. But for me to go, I need a favour from you.” He could use this. It was for the plan, he told himself, not because staring into those warm pools of light was absolutely intoxicating.
Gustave smirked, his eyes twinkling in amusement. He hadn't expected that to work, but it did. Damn, could he have used that on others before? Or was it just Verso? It was probably just Verso.
“An eye for an eye.” Gustave muttered, tilting his head innocently as he twisted their hands and intertwined their fingers, eliciting a soft, surprised noise from Verso.
“Yes.” Verso confirmed, his breathing coming a little quicker than normal. Why did this man have to look so handsome? The look on his face screamed that he knew what he was doing. Damn him. Damn this engineer.
“A kiss?”
“No.”
“A make-out session.”
“By the- no!”
“A proper fuc-”
“Do not finish that sentence."
Verso's face flushed beet red, hiding his cheeks behind his hand. The man was just sleep deprived, he told himself. That's why you have a pretty engineer smirking at and flirting with you. That's all. Once he gets some sleep, everything will just go back to normal.
“I… need your help destroying something when the time comes.” Verso mumbled when he finally got his wits back in place. He felt horrible asking a painted man to destroy the same Canvas he lived on… but eventually, Gustave would understand.
“What is it?”
“The Canvas.”