my character trying to cheer yours up.
augustine sycamore is a gentle, kind, docile man. he rarely ever loses his temper. however, when he does, it’s equatable to the force of an explosion. it’s shocking, violent, and it’s quite obvious he bottles his anger up before letting it out all in one go. it was a tiny thing that set him off, too, just one page missing from a report that caused him to go into full-blown rage.
lysandre does not try to calm him, he allows the professor to let out his anger. he shouts, kicks and punches walls ( though he’s hardly applying enough force to create holes ), and finally begins to cry. how pitiful. lips curve downwards into a frown. though... augustine is his friend, he should do something to ease his pain.
in just a few long strides the man is kneeling down beside augustine’s hunched form. a gloved hand rests on the professor’s back, right between his shoulder blades.
` i won’t tell you not to be upset, ` lysandre begins, ` because we all need to vent our anger in some ways. it’s only human. ` it’s pathetic. the thought is ignored. his hand moves to the nape of augustine’s neck, thumb running over the base, over a bump of his spine.
augustine’s whimpers die down to sniffles, his quaking turning into trembling. lysandre doesn’t hug him, like most people might. he’s not very touchy-feely. a reassuring pat on the back would suffice.
` and you happen to be very human. that is fine. i am here for you. ` for now.
honestly, he doesn’t know how to comfort people. he’s surprised he even gets a smile from the professor, who wipes at his eyes with his sleeve.
