Re: Investigation: Seven/Klaus
The only place that Liam felt comfortable, other than the lake, was here at Seven's house. It was a strange sort of familiarity considering he had never spent any real amount of time here. It was the person that called this a home that drew Liam in. That was the comfortable feeling, the familiar atmosphere that drew him like a moth to a flame. And he wanted, oh, he wanted. He wanted to reach out to the man that was home and love and everything that Liam had wanted, to tell him that he was here, that he wasn't really gone.
But was he really here? Was that really fair to Seven? A dead man was no companion for anyone.
Still, he couldn't resist trying to reach out. Late-night visits. The message on the mirror. Clues, hints dropped, because acknowledgement would be worth a little something, and he didn't particularly want the same sort of reaction that Dietre had given him. Tears weren't useful, no. Tears didn't help the dead, so why shed them? There was nothing left that could help him, now. He had seen to that in a spectacular manner with his swim in the lake.
So he was there, a lingering thing that couldn't quite draw himself away. He didn't hear the door to the master bedroom open, didn't hear the living approach, but that didn't mean that the room didn't reek of lake water, of wet things that had lost the memory of being dry. He was there, beside the bed as he had been that first night, just looking.
Mourning.
He jerked, though, at the attention that was given to him. No, not just attention, but actual words. HIs head whipped around towards Klaus, towards Seven in the doorway, before watery blue settled on the stranger-to-him.
"You- Are you talking to me?" Confusion washed over his features, and he turned towards Klaus, deeply shadowed eyes and cheekbones, the carpet beneath his feet saturated with boggy lake water.