This Sunday is much the same as any other, with the whole family that is on the island packed into the house that is easily Hargreeves Central Station, at all times any one of them might be found here, but all of them can be found here on Sundays. Sometimes it’s just dinner, sometimes it stretches across the majority of the day, but Sundays are specially, specifically reserved family time.
This Sunday was different, somehow, in a way he couldn’t quite pinpoint in any one single, specific way. But it was an energy in the house, a feeling hanging in the air and weaving between the empty spaces. Something bright and warm that sought to fill in all of the crevices it could find.
Everyone has split off into their own, smaller groups for the moment; Lila and Allison are cleaning up in the kitchen cathartic about who knows what, while Klaus and Five keep Claire entertained.
Diego is looking for Luther and eventually finds himself outside on the front porch, staring out at the island. Everything here has a sense of peace and calm that Diego has found hard both to adjust to and to trust, but it still finds its way to wash over him when it’s quiet like this. He didn’t find his brother, but the sun is starting to set and that tranquility just caught him in that sense of ease for a moment.
Life on the island has been calming for a while — even high-strung as the Hargreeves are, it's hard to be too stressed-out when most days are warm and sunny, the ocean is a perfect blue, and every day they're granted the daily reminder of everything they've worked hard to build — but it's true, there's something else in the air today.
After a while, there's the creak of the porch floorboards, and Luther stepping outside to join Diego. Luther's not even reading or listening to music for once, just looking thoughtfully out to the distance with a kind of abstracted distraction, which doesn't usually fit their sharp-focused once-leader.
Today, he's seemed more contented than usual. Throughout the day and during the meal, he and Allison have been shooting each other the sorts of looks that, once upon a time, would have driven Diego up the wall; the pair of them falling into the orbit of their secret language again, unspoken and insular.
"Is Five with Klaus and Claire?" he asks, once he sees that Diego isn't indoors with the others. Double-checking that one of the more responsible brothers is still around. Not that Luther mistrusts Klaus as a babysitter, but— look, it's just better if Five's around too.
He blinks out of whatever reverie he fell into when he hears the floorboard, attention drawn, and he turns to see who's coming out to join him, smiling slightly at his brother. "Well, someone has to make sure Klaus doesn't feed her too much sugar, so I hope he is." He chuckles lightly at their shared ribbing of their brother even in his current absence among them.
There's a small lull before Diego settles on exactly what words he wants to come out of his mouth next. A small, cursory glance up at Diego over his shoulder, "Felt different in there tonight." He drops it casual, like it doesn't have multiple layers behind it. But it's hard to miss, especially for a detail-oriented person like Luther, the slight quirk of one corner of his mouth; the almost amused lilt in his voice coupled with a playfully accusatory tone, somehow; the empath talking about how things felt.
As ever, Diego being an empath is unfair. Luther's grown used to giving away little pieces of himself — powers practice with Diego turning himself into even more of an open book, and life unfurling on Krakoa had cleared up the Hargreeves' communication even more — but sometimes, some secrets, you instinctively want to keep to yourself.
Diego can't miss the way that Luther's spine straightens, and how he holds himself at subtly more rigid angles. Face averted slightly as he fixes his gaze and looks out to the ocean, rather than meet his brother's eye (likely in case Luther's expression gives too much away; he's absolutely terrible at keeping a poker face).
It was supposed to be the standard Sunday gettogether, like always, but Luther can't even pretend there wasn't something off, the delicate gyroscope of the family dynamic tilted a little askew and delicately altered. But he tries anyway:
"Oh?" he says loosely, nonchalantly. "Huh. Must be something you ate."
Diego notices all those little things Luther always falls into when he's caught-- refusing to look at him, all that stiffness in his shoulders, suddenly; it's a little bit of an echo of when they were in the Academy, but... the edges aren't quite as sharp now between them, and, in a way he never would have dreamed of, it's easy not to let those things send him tangling toe-to-toe with Number One.
Luther's words are light, an attempt at nonchalance that only pushes that much harder into proving his lie for what it is. Diego lifts both eyebrows, a smirk hiding on his lips. "Ehh-- I don't think so."
{There’s something in the air » Luther
This Sunday is much the same as any other, with the whole family that is on the island packed into the house that is easily Hargreeves Central Station, at all times any one of them might be found here, but all of them can be found here on Sundays. Sometimes it’s just dinner, sometimes it stretches across the majority of the day, but Sundays are specially, specifically reserved family time.
This Sunday was different, somehow, in a way he couldn’t quite pinpoint in any one single, specific way. But it was an energy in the house, a feeling hanging in the air and weaving between the empty spaces. Something bright and warm that sought to fill in all of the crevices it could find.
Everyone has split off into their own, smaller groups for the moment; Lila and Allison are cleaning up in the kitchen cathartic about who knows what, while Klaus and Five keep Claire entertained.
Diego is looking for Luther and eventually finds himself outside on the front porch, staring out at the island. Everything here has a sense of peace and calm that Diego has found hard both to adjust to and to trust, but it still finds its way to wash over him when it’s quiet like this. He didn’t find his brother, but the sun is starting to set and that tranquility just caught him in that sense of ease for a moment.
no subject
After a while, there's the creak of the porch floorboards, and Luther stepping outside to join Diego. Luther's not even reading or listening to music for once, just looking thoughtfully out to the distance with a kind of abstracted distraction, which doesn't usually fit their sharp-focused once-leader.
Today, he's seemed more contented than usual. Throughout the day and during the meal, he and Allison have been shooting each other the sorts of looks that, once upon a time, would have driven Diego up the wall; the pair of them falling into the orbit of their secret language again, unspoken and insular.
"Is Five with Klaus and Claire?" he asks, once he sees that Diego isn't indoors with the others. Double-checking that one of the more responsible brothers is still around. Not that Luther mistrusts Klaus as a babysitter, but— look, it's just better if Five's around too.
no subject
There's a small lull before Diego settles on exactly what words he wants to come out of his mouth next. A small, cursory glance up at Diego over his shoulder, "Felt different in there tonight." He drops it casual, like it doesn't have multiple layers behind it. But it's hard to miss, especially for a detail-oriented person like Luther, the slight quirk of one corner of his mouth; the almost amused lilt in his voice coupled with a playfully accusatory tone, somehow; the empath talking about how things felt.
no subject
Diego can't miss the way that Luther's spine straightens, and how he holds himself at subtly more rigid angles. Face averted slightly as he fixes his gaze and looks out to the ocean, rather than meet his brother's eye (likely in case Luther's expression gives too much away; he's absolutely terrible at keeping a poker face).
It was supposed to be the standard Sunday gettogether, like always, but Luther can't even pretend there wasn't something off, the delicate gyroscope of the family dynamic tilted a little askew and delicately altered. But he tries anyway:
"Oh?" he says loosely, nonchalantly. "Huh. Must be something you ate."
no subject
Luther's words are light, an attempt at nonchalance that only pushes that much harder into proving his lie for what it is. Diego lifts both eyebrows, a smirk hiding on his lips. "Ehh-- I don't think so."