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teatiming[ He's thought for a while that McGillis has seemed a little off. Oddly distant, except— not distant at all. If anything, McGillis has loosened up a little, gotten a little more friendly. Become more sociable with everyone at school, freer with his smiles. It's no longer just Gaelio who can be found constantly at McGillis's side; now, Gaelio has to jostle for a space beside McGillis — or would, were he not a son of one of Gjallarhorn's illustrious Seven Stars. But despite all of that, McGillis's newfound ease with others, it feels like they've never been farther apart.
Most of the time, Gaelio ignores the feeling. It's just childish growing pains, seeing McGillis go from blankly staring at him and Carta to smiling at everyone around him. Ugly, unworthy jealousy that Gaelio won't allow to get the better of him.
But staring at the papers he's found on McGillis's desk now, Gaelio knows with cold certainty, he hasn't been mistaken at all. He'd come looking for a datapad to use for their homework, McGillis's room as familiar to him as his own and just as much his to poke around in. And yet he knows that the data he's staring at — supply lines, finances, records of the most barely of legal contacts — is something he was never meant to see.
He's so distracted reading through the records of a slowly growing company that he doesn't notice McGillis until he's standing in front of him, hands clenched into fists, only McGillis's usual cool restraint preventing him, Gaelio's sure, from snatching the datapad right out of his hands.
Gaelio looks up at McGillis, mouth drawn into a tight, angry line, and asks: ]
When were you planning on telling me about this?
[ If McGillis even was planning to, ever. ]
Most of the time, Gaelio ignores the feeling. It's just childish growing pains, seeing McGillis go from blankly staring at him and Carta to smiling at everyone around him. Ugly, unworthy jealousy that Gaelio won't allow to get the better of him.
But staring at the papers he's found on McGillis's desk now, Gaelio knows with cold certainty, he hasn't been mistaken at all. He'd come looking for a datapad to use for their homework, McGillis's room as familiar to him as his own and just as much his to poke around in. And yet he knows that the data he's staring at — supply lines, finances, records of the most barely of legal contacts — is something he was never meant to see.
He's so distracted reading through the records of a slowly growing company that he doesn't notice McGillis until he's standing in front of him, hands clenched into fists, only McGillis's usual cool restraint preventing him, Gaelio's sure, from snatching the datapad right out of his hands.
Gaelio looks up at McGillis, mouth drawn into a tight, angry line, and asks: ]
When were you planning on telling me about this?
[ If McGillis even was planning to, ever. ]
