[ The significance of the hand Theo chooses doesn't go unnoticed, and he isn't quite sure what to make of it. Even blinded, he would have been able to tell the difference. The difference in temperature, in texture. Even in sound, he imagines, to Theo, because flesh would absorb sound and crystal reflect it. So it must be a choice, that he kisses the hand of glass. Else perhaps proof that either of them is as worthy as the other. And really, both of those mean the same thing.
So it's the hand of glass that remains, when he needs to withdraw a hand. It stays there, wrist to Theo's lips, as the rustling of cloth indicates that the hood is being pulled away. A very quiet, supressed noise of discomfort as his ears adjust to being able to move again after being compressed under the hood.
He undoes his braid. He's always worn his hair the same way, no need to give unnecessary clues. ]
no subject
So it's the hand of glass that remains, when he needs to withdraw a hand. It stays there, wrist to Theo's lips, as the rustling of cloth indicates that the hood is being pulled away. A very quiet, supressed noise of discomfort as his ears adjust to being able to move again after being compressed under the hood.
He undoes his braid. He's always worn his hair the same way, no need to give unnecessary clues. ]
Perhaps I ought to issue one, then.