Re: Manor: Oliver/Damian
[Damian enjoyed animals and nature as well, hence the fish. He was thinking of asking Father to install a small pond somewhere on the grounds, so that he might feed and observe them. Capturing the fluid movement, the slide of scales, and flick of fin—it was not easy. But, unlike Oliver, Damian did not think of himself as a painter or an artist. He did it when he was bored or, more recently, suffering from what he decided should be called stress. It offered a distraction, that was all.
As did this boy. Though, it was more than that that had compelled Damian to invite him down.—When Oliver shrugged, fine-boned and all of him narrow, the man made a sound with his tongue to the backs of his teeth. A tut. It was a habitual thing, but Oliver would not know that. Though he felt very strongly the urge to lie and deflect, Damian did not.] I do not know. I am and I am not. [This was an impossibility, but he decided not to pick at it.—As for that once-over, Damian was acutely aware of the weight of the shadowed, brown eyes as they moved over him. He did not know if Oliver did it to place him next to Misha, or if he did it out of his own interest. He decided it was the former. He knew his appearance was uncommon and his gaze unsettled many.] Would you know? [Damian asked of the bothering. He did not know if he would, though he would not be admitting that.] I believe he has relations, as he and I had, with many people.
[The boy's next question came as another surprise to Damian, and he did not like being surprised in such a manner. He was used to having an answer somewhat prepared, as he could anticipate (some) questions. This, he had not seen coming.] I do not hate you. That takes effort.