Re: [Gala, Capital: Burden & Damian]
Yes. He knew. Damian knew. He knew Burden was not gay. He knew the boy was not gay and that, even had he been, it would not matter. Whatever interests Burden had, he was unable (and unwilling) to act upon them, so their existence was necessarily theoretical, and theory was as wind without substantiation. So, again, the conclusion was: it did not matter. Not any of it. Damian decided this, because it would be too tortuous otherwise. If it mattered. If it continued to scrape at his raw nerve endings. He did not enjoy failure, and this was that. Therefore, nothing that had transpired held any importance. Damian turned his attention to the present moment. He exited the bathroom with Burden.
And, as no words were spoken upon Damian, his hand, or how such interacted with his hair, once more, the very thought of it, in Burden's head, was negated. It might as well have never existed. All there was, indeed, was this gala and the people in attendance thereof. Damian had pointed out the returning attention of the man, Mr. Coltan, and he watched with a removed puzzlement as Burden lapsed from himself and into someone else. The boy smirked, his new mask ductile to need, and Damian decided he would not react. He allowed his sleeve to be manhandled once more, then he followed behind Burden toward the man who was vying for their attention.
The man, Mr. Coltan, seemed to have abandoned any others he was conversing with. Or perhaps they had abandoned him, as he seemed inebriated. Damian lifted his chin as they approached; however, he did engage the stranger with a smile. After all, if nothing had truly occurred in the bathroom, so to speak, then he could do as he liked, yes?