Re: log: antique store - louis, misha, and damian
The image of Misha didn't let go of Damian's hand, not right away. Seeing behind the curtain could so quickly destroy any chance for suspension of disbelief. Misha being in the room helped too, making it difficult for even Louis to believe in the ruse of being him.
Forcing a want did not make it so. Forcing a want down made it no less keen - sublimated and repressed desires were some of the strongest, in his short experience - so trying to want something was no different. People often tried to make themselves desire something or someone they had no affection for, but real want could only develop naturally.
So it happened here. As the not-Misha looked back at Damian, he kept almost speaking, almost starting a conversation. What very little remained of Louis' rein on the situation prevented him from leaning fully into the illusion and trying to talk Damian round.
As Damian's focus shifted, and his desire gradually faded into the background, his own expression dimmed a little. Then the smile faded entirely. The shift in focus took the edge off, allowing him to think about something that wasn't making Damian feel comforted, affectionate, and loved.
Louis worked his way backward. If Damian wanted a coffee, then Misha was not top of mind. He wanted the coffee because he didn't need to want Misha. Misha was still in the room, the real thing, and he could go to him any time he wished.
Gradually, the borrowed features began to bleed away, melting off into Louis' recognizable, angular face. It was more visibly uncomfortable in the reverse, requiring attention, focus, and Louis shuddered as the last fragment of the copied shape melted into sharp cheekbones.
He surveyed Damian's face, and he glanced to Misha to see how he might be doing. "There's coffee above the sink," he said, softly, turning back to Damian. "I have good cinnamon, but no cardamom."