[It's a simple and soft sentiment, and one that hits him like a truck because of exactly who they are, and exactly where they're from. When growing old is little more than a fanciful daydream that a populace has long since forgotten, words like that carry the sentiment of a fairytale. A nonsensical desire, even if Scien himself has made it so that that's no longer the case.
There's a quiet feeling that spreads through him on hearing that. A mixture of the awe from earlier, knocked down as he'd been by the intensity of what Scien was feeling, and a renewed stun. Somehow, no matter how many times Scien states things and re-states them, it takes repeat after repeat for the words and sentiments to actually start sinking in. Lucas knows that he's wanted, but he doesn't really know - had no idea that a person so calm and even-keeled was even capable of this sort of depth and intensity of grief and desire.
He can only feel the kiss against his temple in the vague sensation of pressure, soft and gentle. After a second, he shifts a bit, too. Getting just enough distance so that he can hold a tentative hand up.]
...Please guide me. Allow me to touch your face.
[Since he can't see where he's aiming and also can't feel for it and he doesn't want to accidentally cause more damage after this day of truly stupid damage. But as he's waiting, he adds:]
You would want for all of that time...?
[With him? It seems impossible. A normal human lifespan already seems impossible, let alone the eternity Scien craves in spite of his refusal to be eternal.]
no subject
There's a quiet feeling that spreads through him on hearing that. A mixture of the awe from earlier, knocked down as he'd been by the intensity of what Scien was feeling, and a renewed stun. Somehow, no matter how many times Scien states things and re-states them, it takes repeat after repeat for the words and sentiments to actually start sinking in. Lucas knows that he's wanted, but he doesn't really know - had no idea that a person so calm and even-keeled was even capable of this sort of depth and intensity of grief and desire.
He can only feel the kiss against his temple in the vague sensation of pressure, soft and gentle. After a second, he shifts a bit, too. Getting just enough distance so that he can hold a tentative hand up.]
...Please guide me. Allow me to touch your face.
[Since he can't see where he's aiming and also can't feel for it and he doesn't want to accidentally cause more damage after this day of truly stupid damage. But as he's waiting, he adds:]
You would want for all of that time...?
[With him? It seems impossible. A normal human lifespan already seems impossible, let alone the eternity Scien craves in spite of his refusal to be eternal.]