Klaus can't pinpoint whether he's relieved that Diego is taking up the helm here or if he's too afraid to let this moment go. But the tray leaves his hands and Diego's already talking about later plans and Klaus puts on a little smile. "Mm, you'll win your way to Claire's heart so fast with a proposition like that."
He's on the move again, his body a ball of uncertain energy even when there's nowhere to pull that energy from. Stop squirming, you're making me nervous, Dave would have said, had said once upon a time. Everything reminds him of the pretty man on the battlefield with the sweet eyes and sweeter smile, and the hole in Klaus's heart grows wider each time.
"If you get into a fight, at least try and save the dishes. I like those ones." He shrugs a shoulder and gives a little wiggle of his fingers to his brother. "Just let yourself in, don't bother knocking."
He pads away from the kitchen, coffee and half a sandwich left behind on the counter. He pauses in the hallway one time to glance back, both exhausted and hopeful, before he slips into his room. He won't sleep; he can't. He can't remember the last time he rested. So he might well put himself to bed, wrap himself up in blankets, but he always comes to, sweaty and screaming, no matter the beginning.
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Klaus can't pinpoint whether he's relieved that Diego is taking up the helm here or if he's too afraid to let this moment go. But the tray leaves his hands and Diego's already talking about later plans and Klaus puts on a little smile. "Mm, you'll win your way to Claire's heart so fast with a proposition like that."
He's on the move again, his body a ball of uncertain energy even when there's nowhere to pull that energy from. Stop squirming, you're making me nervous, Dave would have said, had said once upon a time. Everything reminds him of the pretty man on the battlefield with the sweet eyes and sweeter smile, and the hole in Klaus's heart grows wider each time.
"If you get into a fight, at least try and save the dishes. I like those ones." He shrugs a shoulder and gives a little wiggle of his fingers to his brother. "Just let yourself in, don't bother knocking."
He pads away from the kitchen, coffee and half a sandwich left behind on the counter. He pauses in the hallway one time to glance back, both exhausted and hopeful, before he slips into his room. He won't sleep; he can't. He can't remember the last time he rested. So he might well put himself to bed, wrap himself up in blankets, but he always comes to, sweaty and screaming, no matter the beginning.