Re: log: antique store - louis, misha, and damian
Misha stepped inside behind Damian, letting the door close real slow 'gainst his back to avoid making noise any with it. He nudged Damian toward the couch, even with that lighting of cigarette and show of defiance. "Morning, Louis. Damian ain't feeling real well, so he's going to sit, else I'm going to tie him to some piece of real old furniture." The boy walked up to Louis and his tea, and he gave the man a quiet kiss to the cheek in greeting, which he followed with a real careful hug, mindful of the teacup and having noticed the puddle left behind on the table. "I reckon you have rope here somewhere, should we need it?" Misha, he was smiling, and it was real clear he was teasing 'bout the rope.
And, the place, it was real cold. Misha, he didn't know a thing 'bout heating, but he looked 'round some after pulling back from that hug. "I can look at your heater, if you're keen. It's cold in here some." But, Misha's smile was quiet and warm, and he walked back to Damian and nudged him toward the couch again, if necessary. "And Damian, he needs an ashtray."
Misha, he perched himself on the arm of the couch with all the real easy flexibility and thoughtless perching of young folk, and he looked at Louis. He didn't think anything of that orange bottle sitting, on account of thinking maybe Damian's daddy had left something, either of his own or for Louis' injury. "You look a whole lot better than last time we were here, Louis," Misha said honestly, and then he took to thinking 'bout how best they should help the other man practice his control. He looked 'round the room, as if that would offer some helping, and then he looked on back at the man. "Can you tell what it is we want?"
Misha, he was human enough that his wants weren't real hard to read. He could shut himself off, and he knew that somehow, but he wasn't real inclined. And his wants, they were real simple just then. He wanted the boy smoking the cigarette. He wanted to help this man. He wanted Damian to feel well. He wanted things to feel steady again. He wanted his music. He wanted humanity. All them things mingled bright in the boy sitting on the arm of the couch, and he kept checking over on Damian regular as he perched.