|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 12:51 pm
Devyn had noticed that Atticus was moving a little better, that he was wincing a little less. He doubted the healing process was pleasant but he knew that it was better than the alternative, better than still being injured.
Or worse.
He didn’t like to have to push him, so he tried to be encouraging and supportive while getting him to stretch his legs and keep moving. There were plenty of opportunities to rest, plenty of chances to soak in the springs, and eat, and talk.
Atticus was doing very well, and though it had only been a few days, Devyn was proud of him.
Especially because they’d made an impressive dent on the work necessary for the library. They’d dusted the books, organized them, made a stack of ones that needed simple repairs, and made a more organized section for the loose pages or the badly damaged books. The furniture had been fixed, things had been cleaned and scrubbed and it looked good.
He couldn’t wait to show Michael, but the days still seemed to be ticking so slowly. He was enjoying time with Atticus! But Michael was going to get tired of him texting ‘What are you making for dinner’ eventually.
Maybe.
The messages they’d traded back and forth weren’t always important, sometimes he couldn’t help but just text him to ask if he was doing okay. Sometimes they were important, but he hadn’t gotten any bad news from Michael nor had to text him any, either, so things were going well enough.
Michael had asked him how he’d feel about Atticus staying with them, and Devyn hadn’t missed the way Michael didn’t say ‘with me’, he’d said with us, and it chipped away at all the worries he’d had about maybe intruding or overstepping his welcome.
They’d agreed to discuss details later, but that was expected–Devyn wasn’t the most proficient at texting without an autocorrect so lengthy messages weren’t worth that much effort when he trusted it would have been better communicated in person, anyway.
They got the most important things to each other, they’d go over the rest when they saw each other again.
But, Atticus knew, very shortly after Devyn did.
It was one less thing to worry about, which meant they could enjoy more of what Sessrumnir had to offer.
Today, they weren’t cleaning. Well–not really. They’d been talking about art over breakfast, and Devyn had asked Atticus what he liked to do, what he’d studied, what he’d gotten to practice with and what he wanted to try–there was no wrong answer, and Devyn had listened to what Atticus had said with honest enthusiasm and interest. He knew he cared about creating things, and he knew that he hadn’t had the opportunity to explore that, or be properly encouraged.
Talking about Atticus’ interests inevitably led to Devyn’s experience with art through Percy, and that led to more conversations about him, and Devyn was–naturally–happy to oblige.
They’d eaten and talked for a bit more before Devyn had invited Atticus to help him dig through some of the art. There was quite a stash in the bedroom he’d shared with Percy but he didn’t have any intention of starting there. Instead, he took Atticus to Percy’s office and showed him around, but they only stayed for a few moments before they ventured to a sitting room nearby. At some point in time, Devyn must have been cleaning things in there; it wasn’t as fresh as the office but more than half of the room had been wiped down and taken care of.
Devyn had Atticus take a seat as soon as they’d arrived and he made his way to the door in the corner.
“We’ve got a lot of paintings stored here,” he explained. “I haven’t been through all of them yet, but when I’ve found something of his, I’ve brought it here for safe keeping. Just until we can make sure they’re all in good shape, then we’ll get them hung up again. I’d like to take some more back with me, Michael’s mother is an expert on these things. I’m learning a lot from her. I want to get some of them framed, and some of them restored if they need it. Maybe you can help me pick out which ones we should use for the next gallery?”
An open offer, but Devyn seemed to trust Atticus’ eye enough to help him pick which ones he should bring home to share with everyone.
“We can just look for right now, though. There’s a lot–I’ve got stacks of paintings, and boxes of sketches in here.”
The personal work, the private work, was no doubt still well-hidden in their bedroom, but this little storage room was practically overflowing and Devyn seemed as though this were some wonderful treasure hoard.
“You’ll need at least this much space for all of your art, too.”
He carefully lifted a stack of paintings and carried them over to the table Atticus was sitting and began to lay them all out for him to see.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 1:02 pm
Atticus was more than pleased to take a look at Percy’s art. He’d been looking forward to it, really. And he was feeling a lot better now that he knew Michael wanted him to stay with them. And after crying for several minutes, he had to promise Devyn that he was okay, just relieved.
He tried taking everything in, but there was just so much to sort through. The different paths they took, the different rooms, the library, and now the office and sitting room.
It was a bit of a trek away from the Springs, and now that they were above ground, the constantly raging storm was easier to hear. And yet, it was also easy to ignore as background noise at some point.
He tried not to smile too much at the thought of needing a place for all of his art. He looked forward to it! He was excited to share everything he learned with the people he cared about. Which was a small number, but that was okay. He made a mental note to himself about Michael’s mother at least, especially if she was an expert.
The first painting on top of the stack Devyn set in front of him was a landscape. It wasn’t any kind of landscape he’d seen before, as there were things floating in the sky.
“Is this Alastor?” he asked as he carefully held up the painting, sitting back in his chair enough so he could rest it on his lap. He didn’t touch the painting, but his fingers carefully traced over the bright colors. It looked like it was a summer day, and light was reflecting off the delicate leaves on the trees Percy had painted. The field had a mostly intact fence, but part of it was broken. Beyond that were objects seemingly floating in the sky, but they looked suspended in space and not in an immediate threat of falling.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 1:25 pm
Devyn visibly brightened when Atticus asked and couldn’t imagine how anyone managed to trick the boy into thinking he wasn’t clever.
“It is. I know he painted quite a few of Alastor. I don’t recognize some of these places, but Percy always took notes so there’s almost certainly information on the back. I know I’m biased, but I I think his of Alastor are some of his best work. I mean, in terms of landscapes. He really saw the beauty of my world. Other people only wanted to see us as a world of bloodshed and despair, but he saw it the way I did.”
He laid out the other paintings but came to stand close to Atticus so he could admire the painting with him.
“It’s a bit North of Arista,” he explained, but didn’t know that the name would be familiar enough to give Atticus a good idea. “I’ll show you on a map, sometime. I don’t think it looks like this anymore.” There was a bit of sadness in his voice, because it was such a lovely scene, and now–
Now, he hadn’t seen the skies in years. The clouds were too thick, and the only time he even knew that there might still be anything floating in the sky was when it came crashing back near enough for him to notice.
But it had been a while since he’d seen that, anyway.
“When the clouds clear up, when the Chaos is gone, I’d like to take you. It really is beautiful.”
The way he remembered it, at least. He didn’t know how long it was going to take to rid his world of Chaos, or for his world to heal from the damage it had done–but he didn’t doubt that it would heal.
He’d do everything in his power to make sure of it.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 4:56 pm
“It’s beautiful,” Atticus hummed softly, taking the time to inspect every bit of detail he could. From the way the bark on the trees were painted, to the blades of grass, to how the sky looked so pure and healthy.
Knowing that Alastor was covered in clouds and Chaos made Atticus want to help Devyn even more. Not that he knew how to help him, just that he really wanted to.
“I would really like to go,” he said as he looked up at Devyn, excited that he would even offer in the first place. He’d mentioned taking him before, but now Atticus thought it really might happen one day.
“He was very talented. You can see where the colors blend together in a single stroke. I don’t know how he did that. Oh, but I’m also not very experienced. Maybe one day… if it’s okay, I mean. Could I try painting while visiting Alastor, too?”
Especially if it was as pretty as the painting. Maybe one day he could convince Devyn to bring Elliot along with them.
“You said you met Percy when he was a little older than me…” he said after a few moments, carefully setting the one painting aside so he could pick up another landscape painting. This one was a beach scene, but it almost looked like stained glass with how it had been painted. The water and sky both reflected colors one wouldn’t normally expect, and yet it was perfectly believable, knowing what he knew about Alastor and now Sessrumnir.
“How did you know you were in love with him? Did it take a long time?”
He might have been staring a little harder at the painting than he needed to, if only to avoid looking up at Devyn when he asked. His cheeks were a little red but… he’d just been walking around! A little while ago. It was completely normal.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 5:12 pm
Every word of praise made Devyn beam, whether it was for Alastor or for Percy. While he was briefly torn between which question to answer, Devyn also found it incredibly easy to jump from one topic to the next.
Especially when he was delighted with all of the topics.
“If you’d like to try painting Alastor, I’d be honored. In the meantime, we can see if they have art classes back in Destiny City? I’ve been looking at taking some. Michael’s helped get me signed up, they have lessons for everything. When he’s at school, I don’t have much to do except get lost or get into trouble.”
While his attention lingered on the painting of Alastor for a moment, he smiled when he looked at the other painting, too.
“I don’t think it took very long at all. I liked him the moment I met him. Before, really. We were at a conference together and I’d never seen him before. I’d been attending them for years, for diplomatic reasons. He was the only one in there even remotely close to my age, and he was just precious. He looked all serious. A little overwhelmed, like he was trying so hard to be absolutely perfect. I felt bad for him, I remembered how intimidating it was to be there all alone. I wasn’t able to talk to him until afterwards, everyone was swarming him. But he got hungry at the same time I was and–well, if we’re being honest, I timed it like that. I needed an excuse to talk to him. I was a little shy. I really wanted to make a good impression.”
He leaned against Atticus’ chair so he could continue looking at the art with him.
“He painted that one while we were on vacation. We needed some time away from anything. I didn't care where we were, I was always happy with him. I wasn’t used to having someone who made me feel like I could be myself. He wasn’t scared of me. He gave me a chance. Got to know me. I think I must have loved him the moment I met him, but I didn’t know what it was. That sounds silly,” he admitted. “...But I just can’t remember a time when I didn’t love him. I knew he was special the second I laid eyes on him. Everything after that was just getting to know how special he was.”
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 5:22 pm
“I don’t think that’s silly,” Atticus said softly as he continued looking at the glass-like beach and ocean, before gently setting it aside with the first one.
The next painting was a portrait. A serious looking young man with rich brown hair long enough to hang over his shoulder, and tied with an olive green ribbon that matched his eyes. Despite his seriousness, it looked as though the portrait had been painted with… almost reverence. It was obviously someone very important to Percy.
“How did you know you were in love? I mean… If you knew he was special, and precious, and you were always happy to be with him, and he made you feel like you could be yourself, and wasn’t scared of you and gave you a chance and got to know you--”
Okay, maybe he knew he was getting a little worked up over it. But he just didn’t know anything about love or how to tell it apart from any other emotion akin to friendship. He felt a little ridiculous for his heart fluttering the way it was. He knew he was young and probably had no right to even think that he might feel more than just close friendship or… or maybe he was just grateful for someone to talk to him. He couldn’t stay he felt that same way around Devyn, even though he was definitely always happy around Devyn, and he made him feel good about himself and got to know him…
Maybe he was just overthinking it.
“Did Percy love you right away, too?”
Maybe it was just a matter of being patient and figuring things out. He didn’t want to rush things and ruin everything.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 5:37 pm
Devyn looked at every painting like it was both something new to him and something he’d treasured his whole life. There was no mistaking that all of them were precious to him. They were pieces of a life he’d cherished, and he looked at them with nothing short of love.
Percy had put a piece of himself into every stroke he’d painted. He could have painted a black canvas and Devyn would have loved that, too.
“I don’t think I knew it was love at first. I knew it was strange. I knew I liked him and very much wanted him to like me, too. But I didn’t have love to compare it to. I hardly had friends to compare it to. I was drawn to him. I didn’t want to be apart from him. We talked for hours that first night. Some of it about conferences, and political things, and–I really did want to show him the ropes, I didn’t want someone to take advantage of him. I felt protective immediately. It was the first conference I was actually sad to have to leave. But we started writing immediately. I started looking forward to his letters, to getting to know him. I started thinking about what I wanted to write him back, or while I was out, I’d start thinking about how I wanted to find a souvenir or something to send to him. The concept of love was foreign to me, but…”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “When I found out what it was, I knew. When I really thought about it, I knew. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to protect him, I wanted to spend time with him, I wanted to be here for anything he needed. He gave so much of himself, always. I wanted to give him back more. I think he loved me right away, too.”
Devyn laughed softly, and he had that tired look that he sometimes got when he was digging around in his very distant memories. But, he was thinking about Percy, so he was still smiling.
“We were afraid of scaring the other one away. Instead of confessing, we came up with this idea that we should practice kissing for when we did fall in love. We did the whole relationship thing, just under the guise of practice. So we could protect ourselves, just in case. I’d have said that I regret wasting all those years of not telling him how I felt, but the truth was–it was still a relationship, even if we didn’t put that label on it. He was my everything, even when I didn’t think I was his. Maybe we would have had less fretting, less skirting our feelings. Maybe we could have said and done things differently, but it still ended the same way. We still got married.”
Devyn knew he wasn’t the best person to explain things like love–it had taken four years for him and Percy to confess to each other, and even then it was only after a misunderstanding. He might have spent his whole life loving Percy secretly if it meant he didn’t have to risk damaging their friendship with a one-sided confession.
“I would get jealous at the idea of someone else trying to court him. I’d get anxious at the idea that he might fall in love with someone else. Maybe that should have been the first sign. I wanted him to be happy, I just also wanted to be the one to make him happy. If I wasn’t the best person for him–well, then whoever he fell in love with was going to have to be better than me. Percy deserved the best.”
Briefly, Devyn’s lips pursed, as he tried to figure out how you knew it was love.
“I think we just clicked, though. I can’t think of one bad thing to say about him. He cried often, sometimes people gave him a hard time about it. But I don’t think it was a bad thing. He cared so much. I loved that about him. I bury my emotions, he let them out. Honestly, he was the healthier one between us. I wish I could have been more open like that. But, by the time I met him, I was set in my ways. He supported me, gave me ideas, encouraged me. Believed in me, despite what anyone else said. I loved that he trusted me before any of them, and that he gave me a chance to prove it. He didn’t doubt me, and if I was struggling he offered to help me figure out how to succeed. We were far apart, often, in the beginning. But I’d spend my days thinking about what I was going to write him, thinking about all the things I wanted to show him. He was always in my mind because he was always in my heart. I thought about what he’d want, what would make him happy, before I thought about myself. In my head, it changed from ‘me’ to ‘us’. I don’t know if there’s any set way to fall in love, I don’t know if there’s any singular way to feel it, but…”
Finally, Devyn shrugged. “I wanted to spend my life with him, and I knew that as long as we were together, we could overcome anything. I wanted to give him everything I could. And we fell for each other, hard. I promised I’d love him in every life we had, and I still think that. I used to tell him that ‘love of my life’ wasn’t enough. Between my starseed and his, I have no doubt that I’ll always find him. He’s the Love of my Lives, and we’ll always find each other.”
He’d already found Michael, hadn’t he?
Although, he must have been talking too much; he was feeling a little lightheaded, a little out of breath. He hadn’t realized it had gotten a little hot in the room so he fanned himself absentmindedly while he looked over the paintings again.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 5:57 pm
It was really sweet, how much Devyn liked talking about Percy. Loved talking about him, probably because he loved him, no matter how long Devyn had been without him. Atticus would have been happy to listen to Devyn all day, talking about Percy.
“That must have been hard, not knowing if he felt the same way,” Atticus said a little morosely, but he smiled regardless, and gently set the portrait aside once he was done looking at it.
The next one must have been Percy. He didn’t even have to ask Devyn to know.
“He was shy about himself, wasn’t he?” Atticus asked as he looked at the young man with a small smile on his face. There were hesitations in the brush strokes that weren’t in the first portrait. Grey eyes weren’t given the same kind attention as the other young man, but they had similar hair color. And in this portrait, Percy looked barely older than Atticus. Maybe he grew more confident about himself as he got older.
It was no secret that Atticus liked Elliot. Really liked him. But he was afraid that he would ruin everything by being too clingy or needy. Maybe that was another reason why he wanted to stay with Devyn and Michael, because at least then Elliot could get some time to himself if he ever needed a break.
“I told Elliot that I liked him,” Atticus admitted as he stared at the portrait. “I don’t think he feels the same way. Or… I don’t think he did when I told him. But… I’d been watching him for a while. Oh, that sounds a little creepy, doesn’t it? I didn’t mean anything bad by it. He was nice to me, and I was shy and worried that he wouldn’t want to talk to me so I kind of hid every time he was around. I don’t know. I know I’m too young, and I’m happy that he’s my friend. I’m okay if that’s all. I just… He’s so nice, Devyn. And funny and excited about things.”
Atticus sighed. He missed Elliot, but he was also afraid of being too much for him.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:06 pm
The way Atticus could pick things up so easily impressed Devyn, and made him relax a bit more. He liked the way he could look at the art and know something about Percy, just from that. It meant that people could get to know him through his paintings.
Other people could still meet him. Sort of.
The parts of him that were still here.
He didn’t think that he had to tell Atticus that it was difficult worrying that Percy wouldn't feel the same–or angsting about what he could do to try and find a way to make Percy fall for him. He didn’t think he needed to tell him that he was shy and nervous and self-conscious.
Devyn looked at the painting and thought Percy wasn’t particularly kind in how he painted himself in it, but Devyn loved it anyway.
He placed a gentle hand on Atticus’ shoulder. “If you told him you liked him, you’re braver than I was when I was your age. I was an adult by the time Perce and I talked about having feelings for each other. I’m proud of you, that’s really admirable. It doesn’t sound creepy, it’s not like you were doing it to be creepy. You’re just shy.”
And how could Devyn tell him that it was creepy? He was used to hiding himself, to trying to stay out of the spotlight. Used to trying to avoid anything that could bring attention to himself.
Probably thought he’d get in trouble for it. He seemed like he was used to hiding his happiness and wants, anyway.
“I’ve only ever been in love once, with Perce. But I know I got lucky. You and El are still pretty young. I’m glad you can still be friends and that it didn’t make anything weird when you told him. I don’t know what he feels, but I know that I didn’t even think about love until I was, I don’t know, sixteen, maybe? That might be generous. Seventeen? It was a long time ago, Atticus. The point is, I know he cares about you. Michael said he keeps asking how you’re doing and if he’s going to get to see you again soon. There’s a lot of different types of love. I don’t know what’ll happen, or how he’ll grow–or how you’ll grow. But I’ll be there to support you. Maybe Elliot just hasn’t grown up enough yet to be thinking about love. I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out. You’ll get to be yourself when we go home.”
Disguised, sure, but Devyn wasn’t going to give him a hard time for styling his hair how he wanted, or wearing what he wanted, or doing what he wanted.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:15 pm
Was he brave? He still didn’t think so. Even with Devyn and Elliot telling him that he was, he just… felt lost most of the time. It was different now that he had people in his life who cared about him, but he was still afraid that he would do or say something to make them change their minds.
He was trying to be better! They’d given him no indication that they would do anything like that! But still…
It was difficult to ignore all of the voices in his head telling him he wasn’t good enough.
He was too young, and he was very grateful that Elliot either didn’t take him seriously, or maybe didn’t quite understand what he meant, or maybe was just too nice to let it bother him. Maybe in another four years he would be ready to try and open up again. If Elliot still wanted to be his friend.
Atticus smiled a little when Devyn mentioned how Elliot had been asking Michael about seeing him. It was sweet and it made his heart race. Having someone looking forward to seeing him was definitely something new. At least since meeting Elliot. He didn’t want to give that up any time soon.
“Thank you Devyn. For being here for me,” he said as he looked up at him with another smile. He would get up and hug him but was still looking through the paintings. He set the one of Percy down and picked up the next. His smile brightened, because it was obvious a lot of love went into this one.
“I think he captured your eyes perfectly,” Atticus giggled, happy to see how excited Percy seemed to have been to paint Devyn. He took extra care with all of the details, and Devyn looked so young. Maybe these were some of Percy’s earlier paintings. Which just meant he was excited to see more.
“You’re right. We’ll figure it out. I don’t want to make Elliot feel weird or pressured. I don’t mind letting him figure things out, and if it doesn’t work then we can still be friends.” Except it felt like his heart was breaking at the thought. But Elliot might not even like other boys! So that was fine. He would just be a really good friend instead.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:26 pm
“Wasn’t he good?” Devyn insisted, and propped his elbow against the back of the chair so he could lean against it. “He loved my eyes. He loved everything about me,” he said, obviously every bit as proud of it as he was honored by it. “I think he could paint me with his eyes closed and still get it perfect. I don’t know how he did it. I have to keep those two pictures together,” he said, nodding to the one of him and the one of Percy.
“...Even if they’re just paintings, I can’t help but think they’d be sad if they didn’t get to be together.”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and then managed to laugh at himself.
“I’m glad to be here with you, Atticus. I know this probably hasn’t been very fun for you, the whole being stabbed and healing part, but I’ve enjoyed getting to spend this time with you. Do you want to make something for Elliot while we’re here? I’ve got things tucked around here, I don’t think Sessrumnir will mind. I don’t know if we have paints up here, but I’ve got beads. A lot of small ones, I’m not sure if you can make jewelry out of them? But I used them for my beadwork, with my embroidery.”
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:34 pm
Atticus definitely thought that the paintings should be together. Even if Percy was hesitant about himself, it was clear that he painted Devyn with love and admiration. He did have very striking eyes. Much more vibrant than how Percy painted his own. And it wasn’t just the colors that made it vibrant or not.
“You have beads?” Atticus perked up, obviously interested. “I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. I don’t mind. And it’s not so bad any more,” he added, glancing down at his side, which was healing up faster than should be possible.
“It was more blood than I was used to. Oh, is your arm feeling better?” he asked before he could catch himself. He knew he probably shouldn’t ask about it since Devyn hadn’t mentioned it, but it wasn’t as though Devyn spent time soaking in the water like Atticus did.
He lifted his hand to rub at his own arm where the faded bruises from the IV were, and looked down at the painting again for a few moments, before carefully setting it aside with Percy’s portrait.
“I would very much like to make something for Elliot.”
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:39 pm
Atticus was again so very clever, and Devyn couldn't help but laugh a bit when he asked about his arm. “It’s fine, thank you.”
He pulled up his sleeve to show off his own little bruise, but it seemed like Devyn was a fast healer even without soaking so much in the springs. He had a scar visible on his arm, thin and small but slightly more pronounced because of the bruising so close to it.
“Hopefully it’s more blood than you’ll ever be used to. I’m glad you’re feeling better, though. Really glad I know people who are smart and talented and were able to do everything they could to take care of you. Right now I get to be on vacation and show off paintings and do arts and crafts with you, but they’re the ones down there getting everything ready for us.” He didn’t want Atticus to worry so he added, “They’re working hard to make sure everything’s perfect for you. So when we get back home and see how hard they’ve worked, let’s be a little extra enthusiastic so they know how much it means to us.”
He didn’t want Atticus to think it was just him, so Devyn had been doing his best to make sure he knew that he wasn’t alone.
“Maybe I’ll make Michael something while we’re up here. He’s tough though, he can buy whatever he wants. You can keep me company while I go dig up some supplies. What are you going to make for Elliot?”
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:53 pm
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to, but Atticus didn’t miss the scar on Devyn’s arm, and part of him wondered how many scars Devyn actually had. Probably a lot if he’d been stabbed before.
Atticus hoped that would never happen again.
He didn’t ask about it. Not yet. He would tuck it away in his memory and see if maybe Devyn would tell him about it first before curiosity got the better of him.
But what was he going to make Elliot? Oh, he wasn’t sure yet. He chewed on his lip and nodded to Devyn instead, letting him know he would try his best to prove that he was as grateful as he felt. He was already extremely grateful, but he wanted to make sure they knew that.
“I’ll try not to cry,” he promised, because he had a feeling that whatever they were doing for him, well… it was already more than he deserved.
“I’m not sure. I guess it depends on how big the beads are. Maybe a bracelet, or a charm to hang on his backpack, or in front of his window so it shines colors in the room when the light hits it,” he hummed as he thought about it, but he could end up changing his mind. He still had to practice a lot.
“Michael might like a necklace,” he suggested, but paused because that’s what he made for Devyn, even if he was wearing it as a bracelet-- like it was supposed to if he wanted! “I was just thinking… he wears that other necklace, and he has a ring he wears, so…” Maybe he liked jewelry.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 02, 2022 6:58 pm
“If you cry, you cry. I’ll carry a handkerchief, just in case,” Devyn reassured, patting his shoulder gently. He didn’t want to draw attention to Michael’s ring or the necklace so he didn’t comment on how clever and observant Atticus was. He thought it for the upteenth time that day, though.
“That’s a good idea for Michael, thank you. And you’ve got good ideas for Elliot, too. I’ve got a good mix, I think, but you’ll know better when you can see them. Do you want to stay here and look at the paintings while I get the beads or would you like to come with me? It’s only a few rooms down. I do wish I could take you to Alastor, though. I’ll have to get it fixed up soon. I won’t deny that I wound up with a bad habit of picking up anything I liked or thought I could do something with. It’s left me with quite a hoard. I was too busy to do everything I wanted, but I’d be glad if you could help me clear things out a bit. I feel like you’d get better use out of most of it these days than I would.”
It was mostly true; there were still some things he wanted to make, and Devyn couldn’t help the urge to fix things up or make them a little prettier, but with the way things were he knew he had too much else to do. And, he’d rather get Atticus used to having nice things, and he wanted him to explore his creativity without any guilt or restraint.
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|