Re: log: antique store - louis, misha, and damian
"Folks don't got to want to be saved. That's real Protestant of you. Not every religion thinks saving is a thing that happens, and folks that don't believe in saving at all, you reckon they go to Hell? They don't." Misha, he didn't underestimate this thing or how old it was, but he didn't believe this thing knew everything there was to know. It was limited to its own sphere and its own scope, and Misha had never felt himself less human than he did standing there in that real small kitchen. But, then, Damian told Desire to shut up, and Misha laughed quiet and real fond. It was something familiar 'midst all this. "The fall, that ain't as simple as folks think neither. For there to be good, there has to be bad, and I reckon most folks ignore that and lay all the blame downward." He shook his head some. "I had something like you riding 'round inside me for a real long time, talking through my mouth like you're doing now, and it ain't something pleasant. It ain't something desired, though I don't reckon you much care."
Misha, he was surprised when Louis returned. He didn't know why, but he was surprised. It meant he was quiet while Louis stammered, and he was still dazed some when Damian squeezed his fingers. For all that Misha coveted human emotions, they were sometimes real whirlwind, and the boy had spent a decade feeling nothing but calm. It took some getting used to, 'specially without medicating.
The boy felt like he was in over his head, just like he'd done with Corinthian.
Damian, he went to smoke, and Misha's gaze fell to the boy's thumb. Again, his instinct was to make it hurt less, but he forced himself to refrain, and he walked on into the bathroom after Louis. His feet moved sluggish with the pull of duty, and he leaned in the doorway and looked at the blond. "I'm real sorry we made you uncomfortable, Louis. That wasn't the goal any."