#( OH YOU ALR KNOW WTF GOIN ON DAL

[expluere]

(   x   )  :  moved from ask.   // @askidv-thebarmaiden

      ❝ france ! ❞  the explorer exclaims, what with his childish, unadulterated glee only kurt could foster into something charming : bewitching in a guileless sense. the hunch of his shoulders and quick work of his hand, fingers just beginning to coil around the slender neck of the martini glass, it’s a delicate albeit swift motion, prime with the toothy grin that he sees mirroring in the marveling pool of deep sea blue ; a laugh unfurls from his gut and it’s a violent if not familiar burgeoning of petals that matures into a mirthful metronome, hearty, a call of family.  ❝ oh, you know how i love it there in france, belle! ❞ mindless fingers pick at the sheen of glass, the smile reaches his eyes though he knows -- he knows the weight of this simple twist of lips can’t be shared for this party of two. belle’s own comportment is a raw duplicate of his own, but that’s what it is: raw. raw in every sense of its being ; a gentle ache in the palace of flesh that becomes a staple of belle -- kurt’s belle, belle’s smile is raw -- as it is a silent twist of grief. he’s seen doe - eyed creatures die with a smile. kurt thinks this is the only way belle knows how to smile, how to speak, how to survive.

      he doesn’t take a sip, opting to instead swirl it to the crux of the glass in round motions ; a habit he’s formed during their meeting a surplus time ago. ❝ of course you know that, haha, your goal is still paris, isn’t it?  ❞