[Maybe he looks young. He isn't young, not anymore, but he still looks the same as he has for several years. He reached the peak of his power a long time ago, and even though Mikleo has grown and blossomed, Dezel still scarcely looks twenty-five.
His bangs drift into his eyes as he adjusts his head on the pillow. His silver eyes are still pale and sightless-- the same color as the drake Sorey fought and purified so long ago-- though they drift closed when he realizes he might be staring. The wind tells him that Sorey certainly is.
... Are they supposed to hold hands? Is that what he wants? He is so damned clueless right now. Tentatively, he reaches up and gives Sorey's palm a poke.]
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His bangs drift into his eyes as he adjusts his head on the pillow. His silver eyes are still pale and sightless-- the same color as the drake Sorey fought and purified so long ago-- though they drift closed when he realizes he might be staring. The wind tells him that Sorey certainly is.
... Are they supposed to hold hands? Is that what he wants? He is so damned clueless right now. Tentatively, he reaches up and gives Sorey's palm a poke.]