"Thank you," Gabe chirruped as the water cascaded off him, bent over and leaning on the side of the Bentley to slap the sand off his sandals and fit them onto his feet. When Ghastly had presented them to him it had been a complete surprise, and although he did prefer bare feet Skulduggery had pointed out that bare feet in Ireland drew attention. Besides which, they were a perfectly-made gift.
He'd never had anything physical given to him before Skulduggery's rosary. And that had sort-of been a trade. This ... well, Ghastly had been as surprised by the hug as Gabriel had been by the sandals.
Last night had been a lot of things Gabe had never expected, imagined or intended, and for all that had leapt in one shot nearly to the top of his list of favourite memories ever. And he had a lot of memories from which to choose.
It had been awkward. He couldn't deny that. Skulduggery had been tossed almost literally in the metaphysical deep end, and Gabriel was feeling and doing things he had never believed would be possible for him a year ago. It was new, and Rafe had been aggressively teasing in a way Gabriel would have said was unlike him if he hadn't glimpsed the wondering, uncertain protectiveness in his brother. It was a kind he'd seen before, in other brothers--he just hadn't expected to see it in his own.
So he wasn't going to fault Rafe for it. That didn't mean he wanted to hear it. And it didn't mean that even after leaving Rafe behind, he and Skul could simply forget the awkwardness of that teasing. Even when they ignored it.
The beach was a literal breath of fresh air. Gabe had stood on the shore for some moments, just breathing in the air with his eyes closed, gazing up at the stars. Skulduggery was the one who had started talking. He had questions, the questions he hadn't asked back at the safehouse. The questions Gabriel had wordlessly promisd to answer as best as he could.
It hadn't occurred to him that something permanent might come of this, but when he had realised it, the slow dawning smile of joy had been his first reaction. He didn't mind. He didn't mind it at all. He hadn't even realised there had been something there before then, that Skulduggery had managed to read him before Gabe had used his soul as an anchor.
When Skul had asked about his return home, Gabriel hadn't lied or redirected then either. He had no intention of going home. Not so long as Skulduggery didn't want him to. That didn't mean Raphael couldn't go home, of course, but somehow the argument had twisted into being about the Fallen, and their fate, and how Gabriel could not find it in him to be afraid of it. Because he wasn't lost, like them. Because he would always have a destination to keep him assured. Because having travelled that ocean twice now, he knew it was tameable, and it was just a matter of experience and careful experimentation.
But none of that was what worried Skulduggery. So he'd tried to be as open as possible. Still determined, but trying to listen and accept Skulduggery's worry that something might happen to him.
Being flung into the water had come as a complete, and marvellous, surprise. So had the water-fight that had ensued. The tussles in the surf that had left them both laughing. Even Skulduggery agreeing, after a while, to let Gabe write a sigil on his breast-bone that would let him raise and lower a more complete and solid skin at will. After how close they had been, metaphysically, drawing up a facsimile of Skul's old flesh had been fairly easy. So was binding it to his skeleton.
They hadn't done a whole lot of play after the sun rose. Actually, they hadn't been playing at that point either, content to watch the play of colours on the ocean. Up until Skulduggery had finally noticed that Gabe had slowly been burying his legs, anyway, after which point the game had moved to the sand.
Gabe was fairly sure they'd drawn stares. He hadn't cared.
Sandals on, Gabe straightened up and brushed his hair out of his face as he looked at Skulduggery. He was aware of the way his eyes shone and the small, persistent smile still lurking at the corners of his mouth, but wasn't inclined to hide either.
"I don't mind," he said. "We can take the others out for a day at the carnival a bit later, anyway. We should check on Solomon. And Anton, too, if he's still there." A trace of guilt took the edge off that little dimpling smile. "I want to apologise to him for being so abrupt."
And ask if Anton still wanted to ask the question that had rung clearly in his soul, unspoken.
no subject
He'd never had anything physical given to him before Skulduggery's rosary. And that had sort-of been a trade. This ... well, Ghastly had been as surprised by the hug as Gabriel had been by the sandals.
Last night had been a lot of things Gabe had never expected, imagined or intended, and for all that had leapt in one shot nearly to the top of his list of favourite memories ever. And he had a lot of memories from which to choose.
It had been awkward. He couldn't deny that. Skulduggery had been tossed almost literally in the metaphysical deep end, and Gabriel was feeling and doing things he had never believed would be possible for him a year ago. It was new, and Rafe had been aggressively teasing in a way Gabriel would have said was unlike him if he hadn't glimpsed the wondering, uncertain protectiveness in his brother. It was a kind he'd seen before, in other brothers--he just hadn't expected to see it in his own.
So he wasn't going to fault Rafe for it. That didn't mean he wanted to hear it. And it didn't mean that even after leaving Rafe behind, he and Skul could simply forget the awkwardness of that teasing. Even when they ignored it.
The beach was a literal breath of fresh air. Gabe had stood on the shore for some moments, just breathing in the air with his eyes closed, gazing up at the stars. Skulduggery was the one who had started talking. He had questions, the questions he hadn't asked back at the safehouse. The questions Gabriel had wordlessly promisd to answer as best as he could.
It hadn't occurred to him that something permanent might come of this, but when he had realised it, the slow dawning smile of joy had been his first reaction. He didn't mind. He didn't mind it at all. He hadn't even realised there had been something there before then, that Skulduggery had managed to read him before Gabe had used his soul as an anchor.
When Skul had asked about his return home, Gabriel hadn't lied or redirected then either. He had no intention of going home. Not so long as Skulduggery didn't want him to. That didn't mean Raphael couldn't go home, of course, but somehow the argument had twisted into being about the Fallen, and their fate, and how Gabriel could not find it in him to be afraid of it. Because he wasn't lost, like them. Because he would always have a destination to keep him assured. Because having travelled that ocean twice now, he knew it was tameable, and it was just a matter of experience and careful experimentation.
But none of that was what worried Skulduggery. So he'd tried to be as open as possible. Still determined, but trying to listen and accept Skulduggery's worry that something might happen to him.
Being flung into the water had come as a complete, and marvellous, surprise. So had the water-fight that had ensued. The tussles in the surf that had left them both laughing. Even Skulduggery agreeing, after a while, to let Gabe write a sigil on his breast-bone that would let him raise and lower a more complete and solid skin at will. After how close they had been, metaphysically, drawing up a facsimile of Skul's old flesh had been fairly easy. So was binding it to his skeleton.
They hadn't done a whole lot of play after the sun rose. Actually, they hadn't been playing at that point either, content to watch the play of colours on the ocean. Up until Skulduggery had finally noticed that Gabe had slowly been burying his legs, anyway, after which point the game had moved to the sand.
Gabe was fairly sure they'd drawn stares. He hadn't cared.
Sandals on, Gabe straightened up and brushed his hair out of his face as he looked at Skulduggery. He was aware of the way his eyes shone and the small, persistent smile still lurking at the corners of his mouth, but wasn't inclined to hide either.
"I don't mind," he said. "We can take the others out for a day at the carnival a bit later, anyway. We should check on Solomon. And Anton, too, if he's still there." A trace of guilt took the edge off that little dimpling smile. "I want to apologise to him for being so abrupt."
And ask if Anton still wanted to ask the question that had rung clearly in his soul, unspoken.