Odd was one word for it, Victor supposed. It felt immediately inaccurate, but he didn't know what word he would have used, in Leo's position. Victor had been dead for nearly a month, and he hadn't made any effort to contact Leo during that time, but he'd certainly thought about him. He hadn't known whether Leonid would have wanted to hear from him, given the new circumstances — and even if he had, it wasn't immediately obvious how Victor would even arrange to send him a message, anyway. He couldn't hold a pen anymore, and he didn't trust anyone enough to compose a letter like this on his behalf. He could have just floated through to Leonid's residence and talked to him, but that seemed incredibly invasive to do without having been invited or proving any warning that he was on his way — particularly if Leo wasn't interested in seeing him.
Honestly, Victor had been assuming he wouldn't. They'd been seeing each other regularly for months, they'd arranged little outings together and given each other gifts, but even so there was a lingering doubt in the back of his mind that at its core their relationship was only sex. Prior to Leo, he'd been involved in enough encounters that were contained entirely inside hasty, shame-driven interludes in dark closets and forgotten corners — there was no emotional component at all, only the physical. And now he had no physical being. There was no reason, part of him had been convinced, that Leo would ever want to hear from him again — nothing more that they could offer each other.
But Leo had visited his grave, so. That was something. Victor didn't know if it was enough of a sign to deserve the sentiment that it had sparked in his chest, but — it was something.
"It's — been quite the adjustment," he said, which was a nothing thing to say, but he didn't know what he actually wanted to say or how to phrase it, and it was better than stilted silence.
Honestly, Victor had been assuming he wouldn't. They'd been seeing each other regularly for months, they'd arranged little outings together and given each other gifts, but even so there was a lingering doubt in the back of his mind that at its core their relationship was only sex. Prior to Leo, he'd been involved in enough encounters that were contained entirely inside hasty, shame-driven interludes in dark closets and forgotten corners — there was no emotional component at all, only the physical. And now he had no physical being. There was no reason, part of him had been convinced, that Leo would ever want to hear from him again — nothing more that they could offer each other.
But Leo had visited his grave, so. That was something. Victor didn't know if it was enough of a sign to deserve the sentiment that it had sparked in his chest, but — it was something.
"It's — been quite the adjustment," he said, which was a nothing thing to say, but he didn't know what he actually wanted to say or how to phrase it, and it was better than stilted silence.
Fabulous set by Lady!