lysergs-face:
Faust reached out and held Lyserg’s shoulder to keep him up. When he let go, Lyserg swayed slightly.
“I…I should talk to her. But…” Lyserg’s brows scrunched up in confusion.
“Did I say…it was Jeanne…?”
Lyserg searched frantically through his short-term memory—well, as frantically as he could, since he was impaired. Had he said Jeanne’s name…? He couldn’t recall, but honestly that didn’t mean anything right now.
“I think I…I can’t really remember if I did or not…”
Faust snorted quietly & shook his head, turning back to the dishes. He hummed to himself for a moment before glancing at Lyserg again.
You think I don’t know what a lovesick boy looks like..?
He carefully lifted a hand from the water & gestured gently with his fingers.
Whenever she comes near you or says anything — especially if she touches you — you get this flustered look on your face, like you’ve suddenly lost the ability to think straight & like that lapse has taken over your entire body.
The doctor waved his index finger in front of his own face, pointing at his eyes as he tipped his head down more towards the boy.
It goes all the way to your eyes.
He dropped his hand back into the water, nodding once at Lyserg before turning back to scrub at a plate.
Lyserg flushed for what was probably the millionth time that night.
“I suppose it must be obvious,” he muttered. He felt rather embarrassed, but he supposed that there was nothing he could do about it. He looked down at the dish in his hand and realized that he hadn’t been focusing on cleaning. The sooner he and Faust finished, the sooner that he would be able to go to sleep. He was tired, and his head was starting to hurt.
He worked silently until they were almost done, and as he was washing the last dish he joked, “Tonight probably wouldn’t be the best time to talk to her about things, would it?”