Re: Dietre A./Hugh C.: On the patio
For a heartbeat Hugh opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, and then he closed it again. Dietre hadn't pulled his hand away, even if his gaze had shifted, so there was that. But Hugh wasn't an idiot. He knew it wasn't what Dietre had wanted to hear. And maybe it wasn't exactly what he'd wanted to tell him. The flirty quip would have been easier; pretending that it didn't matter. And at one time he'd have taken that easy, and told himself that Dietre knew who he was, and it was fine.
"I'd like to hear it," he said finally, a small smile. Hoping it was affirmation that he was interested in Dietre, as much as he was interested in the music.
Words seemed a little more difficult and the ease with which he'd asked the original question seemed to have evaporated, but he didn't exactly want to leave it where it was, if for no other reason than: "I don't think you would ever get in the way," he offered softly. If anything, Hugh was perhaps more worried about the opposite. He squeezed Dietre's hand. "Look, I'm not done asking questions, unless you are. I'm just..." he paused, and it was his turn to look at out at the lake while slips of thoughts blew across the surface of his mind. The whisp of some ridiculous Instagram mantra, but he liked the way he felt when he was with Dietre. He liked talking, and flirting, and sharing their art together. And he wouldn't have seen that coming, and he couldn't decide if that made him more wary, or maybe made him trust the possibility of it more.
Hugh sat the remainder of the Old Fashioned down, and turned to look at Dietre again. "I'm just trying to figure out what this would look like, and maybe whether we keep wanting to ask questions, or just ... friends."