Re: Log, Webster's Vinyl: Daniel W & Newt P
In a shift of perspective, Newt was able to watch as a gaze slid from his own, rather than the other way around. Oil-dark eyes slipped slowly, until Daniel was looking at his own hand. Cool fingers hedged the vermilion of Newt's lips, then, like the man's gaze, shifted, drifted, and fell away. Newt, who surely had not meant to breathe with a stupid stutter of air, did this and shook his head. He reached up to swipe at fringe distractedly. The question of what Daniel wanted from him was never unanswered. He, Newt, was there to open veins in offering. But, suddenly, the younger man was rather faced with the question of what he might want from Daniel. He didn't know that he wanted to know the answer. Newt had a penchant for danger, of course, but he was already toeing the line on several fronts.
Newt watched as Daniel poured the boiling water into the pot on the table. He took the cup he was given, thoughtful in the spider-hold of long fingers on chipped china, and he glanced sideways at the vampire, who'd sat just off to the side. "My brother's somehow managed to become a near child again," he said, surprising even himself as he mentioned it. "My elder brother. Normally we're seven or eight years apart, and now he's in his early 20s. This business, mine, I mean, with this man I was seeing—" He shrugged. "—It's just something else. It wasn't going to work out and I knew it, but I seem to enjoy making bad decisions." Newt smiled in another twitch of lips. He was waiting for the tea to steep in the kettle. The amber of his sifting gaze lit to Daniel's fingers on cup, then to arm, to elbow, and back. Idly, he touched his bare throat, wondering if he ought cover up.