Mmmm. [it’s not quite confirmation – alia cannot read homelander the same way she cannot read paul, in that what she can discern so wholly blots out everything else. men, on average, are simple creatures, especially when faced with a lovely, undressed woman – their heart rate increases, their pupils dilate, their blood courses southward, their sweat takes on a tang of desire, animal instinct ruling all. alia knows this unspoken, silent song very well – she has heard it time and again.
but homelander, like paul, is so full of other things to sense, power immeasurable, unfathomable, so much beyond what his sharp jawline and bright eyes telegraph. alia could devote herself to the study of her brother’s reactions, his expressions, his inflections and intonation, and still never fully understand what he’s thinking – the weight of destiny he carries, the immense power drowns out all else, like swimming in a tidal wave and trying to catch minnows inside it. homelander is the same – he could be thinking anything, feeling anything, standing there facing her nude body and meeting her eyes.
it frightens her. it fascinates her. alia lifts her hand, traces the edge of her thumb along homelander’s jawline, once, from ear to chin, as if leaving some sort of mark there.] I’m thinking about you too. [there’s almost a shyness to it, to how her hand lingers, like she’s about to cradle his face, about to kiss him, about to –
but it passes. alia breathes in suddenly, like she’s emerging from underwater, and leans to grasp the shampoo bottle from where it sits beside homelander on the rock.] Thank you. [she sinks back down into the water, pours out the sweet-scented liquid, then lets the bottle float as she begins to soap up her hair, gaze averted, back in her own little world.]
no subject
but homelander, like paul, is so full of other things to sense, power immeasurable, unfathomable, so much beyond what his sharp jawline and bright eyes telegraph. alia could devote herself to the study of her brother’s reactions, his expressions, his inflections and intonation, and still never fully understand what he’s thinking – the weight of destiny he carries, the immense power drowns out all else, like swimming in a tidal wave and trying to catch minnows inside it. homelander is the same – he could be thinking anything, feeling anything, standing there facing her nude body and meeting her eyes.
it frightens her. it fascinates her. alia lifts her hand, traces the edge of her thumb along homelander’s jawline, once, from ear to chin, as if leaving some sort of mark there.] I’m thinking about you too. [there’s almost a shyness to it, to how her hand lingers, like she’s about to cradle his face, about to kiss him, about to –
but it passes. alia breathes in suddenly, like she’s emerging from underwater, and leans to grasp the shampoo bottle from where it sits beside homelander on the rock.] Thank you. [she sinks back down into the water, pours out the sweet-scented liquid, then lets the bottle float as she begins to soap up her hair, gaze averted, back in her own little world.]