( Times stretches slow, like taffy, or Dream Syrup, as Sunday gives his gloves more attention than he gives Gallagher. He's been bad; this is his punishment. It's what he gets for deigning to say no to Sunday. Who is he to form an ill word against the embodiment of the Family, Order incarnated? What a powerful tool denial is. He moves in, watching with his body as much as with his eyes. It's humiliating, but Gallagher holds his tongue throughout the display.
Until Sunday addresses him, that is. )
You wouldn't. You like my bark.
( Sunday doesn't want him tame, especially not at a time like this. There's a time for following orders, and there's a time for obstinacy. Gallagher wouldn't be so indulgent when it mattered, when the Family has a job for him to do, when there's a reason for him to exist. So long as Sunday relies on him, he'll be worthy of it.
But in the secret spaces beyond the gaze of even the Watchmaker, he can take and give freely. )
Muzzle me, and what does that leave you with?
( He speaks softly, not willing the butterfly touch of Sunday's forefinger to fly away. He tastes it with his tongue. When his eyes meet Sunday's, they're warm and full of want. )
no subject
Until Sunday addresses him, that is. )
You wouldn't. You like my bark.
( Sunday doesn't want him tame, especially not at a time like this. There's a time for following orders, and there's a time for obstinacy. Gallagher wouldn't be so indulgent when it mattered, when the Family has a job for him to do, when there's a reason for him to exist. So long as Sunday relies on him, he'll be worthy of it.
But in the secret spaces beyond the gaze of even the Watchmaker, he can take and give freely. )
Muzzle me, and what does that leave you with?
( He speaks softly, not willing the butterfly touch of Sunday's forefinger to fly away. He tastes it with his tongue. When his eyes meet Sunday's, they're warm and full of want. )