action;
[ That heartbeat rings in his ears like an ominous drum. Though perhaps the boy isn't aware of it, he can hear it as well as Alois can as well. The pulse of life, the life he swore he'd snuffed out remains against his chest and pulses with unmistakable life and heat that he can't deny. Not a nightmare, not in the least.
Heat and life.
Heat. Like fire, like passion.
A passion he once loved.
His movements go slower as he allows Alois to take control of his pace. The heat and life seem to flood his system with an old scent that brings back better times, times he can barely see through the haze of this newfound lust that seemed to fog his mind and blind his eyes and steer him on like an ass on a lead. So he draws away, slowly at first as soon as he's sure Alois knows what he's doing. He pulls away so as not to be burned by the life and heat he held for the barest moment. Pulls away so he doesn't loose sight of what was most important.
Or had he?
Silently, he returns to his own work despite that furrow forming on his brow. Once again, he's lost in his thoughts and his slight frustration breaks through that normally calm facade. Good thing excess whipping was good for forming a meringue. ]