Re: Manor: Damian/Misha
[Could be Damian was not a fool. While he had not anticipated Misha so soon, he already knew Father (or someone) would be watching the other boy climb up to Damian's room, alerting any manner of alarms. He knew there was no way anyone could get onto Wainright property without being noticed, save for the most adept and skilled. But, he did not care. He was not attempting to hide anything. It was just simpler to take the window, than have Misha walk through the guts of the manor, crawling as it was with people, who were plagued by questions every moment of every day.
He was still going to speak to Father. But, not yet. He was still reeling a touch from the party. Not that he would ever mention that to anyone, including himself, but it was enough that he knew he did not wish to open his door yet. He did not want to invite in what would be invited in.—He did wish to see Misha, however, and thus, this alternate entrance was offered. The whole thing taking less than a minute, regardless, was surprising. Damian had made the climb himself dozens of times. He could do it with remarkable ease and skill. This was more than that.
The sounds above had alerted him to the boy's presence, and he leaned on the open sill to gaze upward at dangling legs, then tufted blond. He did not know what he expected Misha to look like. He did not know what Misha expected he looked like. And, for the first time in a very long time, Damian regretted not having done anything after returning home. He was still in his mottled red hoodie. He pretended not to care. He offered his lit cigarette upward, as far as he could reach, to the boy perched above him.]