[The very strangeness of the peace between them ruins it for John. He can't relax. Not in Petre's company. After all, he's confused and guessing more than anyone else right now.
He rolls quietly onto his side, watches as Petre appears to fall asleep. When he's not smiling, when his eyes are closed, he looks deceptively innocent. Almost childlike. The sweep of his lashes across his cheeks is unusually dark for someone with such pale hair.
There's a guilty greed to the way he catalogues these thoughts, takes Petre apart piece by piece while he's not looking. He knows it's all evidence of more interest, exactly the kind of interest Petre suspects and tries to cultivate, and the kind he now has to deny to himself as well as out loud. But he's still snatching candies out of the jar when he's not meant to, when he doesn't even like sweets.]
no subject
He rolls quietly onto his side, watches as Petre appears to fall asleep. When he's not smiling, when his eyes are closed, he looks deceptively innocent. Almost childlike. The sweep of his lashes across his cheeks is unusually dark for someone with such pale hair.
There's a guilty greed to the way he catalogues these thoughts, takes Petre apart piece by piece while he's not looking. He knows it's all evidence of more interest, exactly the kind of interest Petre suspects and tries to cultivate, and the kind he now has to deny to himself as well as out loud. But he's still snatching candies out of the jar when he's not meant to, when he doesn't even like sweets.]