Vars stopped and hooked his wolf cane, one handed, over his arm in a fluid motion to free his hand to run his hand over Viktor's cheek and into his hair. He might be soppy or whatever, but the bassist didn't care. "Pretty boy say because not know what like have someone give fuck about."
The Norwegian meant those words. They were terrifying words in some ways because of his past relationship but he needed to say them to the other punk. The hand in his pulled his eyes down for a moment to stare at the leather, chains and spikes at their wrists. The gaze lingered before he looked back up at the much taller punk and gave him a heavy handed, but not hard, flat palm slap to the center of the Brit's chest.
"Know Viktor bastard." He shrugs and squeezes Viktor's hand. His heart is pounding in his ears and he has to take a deep breath before saying more. "Not matter. I stay."
Vars is struggling a little with his emotions and the limited English, that shows in his expression but he's fighting to find the English for what he wanted to say in Norwegian.
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ninetydegrees
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The Norwegian meant those words. They were terrifying words in some ways because of his past relationship but he needed to say them to the other punk. The hand in his pulled his eyes down for a moment to stare at the leather, chains and spikes at their wrists. The gaze lingered before he looked back up at the much taller punk and gave him a heavy handed, but not hard, flat palm slap to the center of the Brit's chest.
"Know Viktor bastard." He shrugs and squeezes Viktor's hand. His heart is pounding in his ears and he has to take a deep breath before saying more. "Not matter. I stay."
Vars is struggling a little with his emotions and the limited English, that shows in his expression but he's fighting to find the English for what he wanted to say in Norwegian.