Taras frowned, bristling like a startled watchdog that had reverted to instinct.
His hand clenched on the door frame, biceps bulging under the clean lines of his suit.
"You don't have to remind me," he said, tightly.
Ilarion had that air about him now, that invulnerable one he wore sometimes, like polished, frozen metal, smooth and seamless, withering all flesh that touched it, whether the contact was accidental or not. When Ilarion was like that, he was never wrong. Force of will alone made it so.
Taras pushed away from the door, relinquishing territory.
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Date: 2008-06-10 07:31 am (UTC)His hand clenched on the door frame, biceps bulging under the clean lines of his suit.
"You don't have to remind me," he said, tightly.
Ilarion had that air about him now, that invulnerable one he wore sometimes, like polished, frozen metal, smooth and seamless, withering all flesh that touched it, whether the contact was accidental or not. When Ilarion was like that, he was never wrong. Force of will alone made it so.
Taras pushed away from the door, relinquishing territory.
"You don't have to ask."
His mismatched eyes held Isaev's.
"You should know that, Ilarion."