Re: log; misha and adrian
The flowers were real pretty, and Misha watched them with a passivity that appreciated, but that wasn't really enjoying the riotous colors of the blooms like he would normal. This wasn't a human boy sitting there, despite not having the wings. It was like when he'd sat himself on the hood of Damian's car; he was himself, but he wasn't. Himself wasn't a human boy, flesh and blood, and to do things like this, well, he was an angel at the moment, and he wasn't really that boy that liked music and theater and playing house.
"I'm sorry 'bout your momma, honey, but this place seems real nice. It's good you came here." That this place was Adrian's warm memory, it made Misha reckon the boy's time here wasn't bad any, and he hoped that was true. "Did you stay in Europe the whole time after that?" he asked. He didn't know anything 'bout Adrian's upbringing or his life; they hadn't never talked 'bout these things.
Course, then, Adrian, he was talking 'bout the men on the bed, and it was likely good just then, the distance, the glowing boy felt. "Being gay, it's real hard. I can't tell you how often I got my face broken in. Just recent, I got punched and run out of a place, and all I was doing was ordering a drink," he explained. He didn't reckon it was surprising any, being scared of being gay. But the rest, that made sense in 'nother type way. "I'm real sorry 'bout being heartsore," he said. "Not being loved in return, it's a special kind of aching. It fades, honey, but you got to let it fade. You can't kindle the fire repeated. We do that, we keep a flame going, and I reckon it's plenty hard to let that flame out." He'd seen it plenty during his time shadowing charges. They held onto tethers and tendrils, and sometimes they were awful 'bout letting them go, as if they were giving up chances that didn't really exist any.
He glanced 'bout the place when Adrian talked 'bout not remembering. "Memory, sometimes it's elusive to be protective." He knew that personal, but it didn't feel close, and he was grateful plenty for that too. "You don't seem different from 'fore to me. Do you feel different?" He was worrying some now that it hadn't worked any, what he'd done.
He glanced at the hand, and he shook his head sadly. "No, honey, not like this. I ain't something that can hold your hand just now, not without you feeling something off me. But thank you for the offering." He wasn't skin and bone and flesh and blood, but he understood that Adrian didn't ken that. "I ain't always good, and it doesn't make me tired to be what I am. It makes me feel good and strong, helping folks and being kind. But you sound like you're talking from personal experience. You're tired of being good?"