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    Summary

    “Qifrey?” Olruggio steps closer, voice pitching up in concern. Qifrey can feel the weight of his gaze, ever-inspecting, angling his head to try to meet his eye. “You a’right? Did somethin’ happen?” Even exhausted, Olruggio doesn’t miss a trick.

    Qifrey peers out from behind his hand to find those lovely eyes, as enchanting as ever, wide, searching, worried. And he knows exactly how this series of events will proceed, with clockwork precision, from a hundred other conversations that began just like this. Roles rehearsed, lines scripted.

    A half-formed growl churns in the back of Qifrey’s throat. I will not do this to him tonight. Seething with frustration, and something else unnamed, he finds himself moving before Olruggio can delve further, and before whatever remains of Qifrey’s better judgement can intervene. He closes the small distance into Olruggio’s space, hands unyielding upon his shoulders to press him back, back, until he’s pinning him against the wall of the walkway.

    --

    Or: Desperate to avoid having That Conversation with Olruggio again, Qifrey tries a new and exciting deflection technique.

    Language:
    English
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    Chapters:
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