[ For all that Cambridge thinks he knows Oxford better than anyone else on earth there's no way he could possibly guess where Oxford's mind was drifting. But he sees the sad way Oxford's eyes glaze over and that defeated shake of his head and instinctively knows that this conversation is over.
For now, at least.
From the moment he had realised that Oxford was downstairs Cambridge had said to himself that he wouldn't be the one that brooked the distance between them but now he raises a hand, cold and not quite warmed up yet, and rests it carefully on Oxford's shoulder. Leaving the distance to be closed by Oxford wasn't apathy or coldness on his own part - quite the opposite. The last thing Cambridge wanted was to feel that he was pushing or prodding (or guilting, which would be the very worst and Cambridge already felt he was sailing dangerously close to the wind on that one) Oxford in to reconnecting with him. Let Oxford approach him in his own time, he had told himself, but with the pair of them only a small distance apart the gap was nearly all but closed. The hand remains for a moment longer before giving Oxford's shoulder a careful squeeze, fingers brushing the material of his shirt. ]
Chin up, darling. You can always fake the sane part.
no subject
For now, at least.
From the moment he had realised that Oxford was downstairs Cambridge had said to himself that he wouldn't be the one that brooked the distance between them but now he raises a hand, cold and not quite warmed up yet, and rests it carefully on Oxford's shoulder. Leaving the distance to be closed by Oxford wasn't apathy or coldness on his own part - quite the opposite. The last thing Cambridge wanted was to feel that he was pushing or prodding (or guilting, which would be the very worst and Cambridge already felt he was sailing dangerously close to the wind on that one) Oxford in to reconnecting with him. Let Oxford approach him in his own time, he had told himself, but with the pair of them only a small distance apart the gap was nearly all but closed. The hand remains for a moment longer before giving Oxford's shoulder a careful squeeze, fingers brushing the material of his shirt. ]
Chin up, darling. You can always fake the sane part.