He won again... the fundamental question of communism is in the video game quotes semifinals, that's a good boy doing a good job!
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"A very interesting evening, detective."
The lieutenant is not talking just about Mazovian analysis.
Somehow you missed it earlier, amidst the revolutionary fervor: the way Kim's words rolled off his tongue, the lack of an answer off your mouth, how quickly the students's eyes darted between the two of you. But the wind gives you a second chance, caressing your cheeks pink again.
Under the dim lights, you slow down. Waves crash, salt against chestnut, and you see the curve in Kim's lips as he lets smoke out; in front of the students, it was subtler, the malice just in his tone. Again, no comeback: your own lips are parted, breath condensing as you follow the line of the lieutenant's mouth, the cigarette burning, his fingers steady under the leather. Is it soft?
The blush reaches your chest. It must be, well cared for like Kim's other possessions — there are no cracks visible, only smooth grain. What does it feel like against skin? From the inner pocket of your jacket, an Astra finds its way from the beaten-up pack to your chapped lips; the ease of this movement surprises you more than the familiarity of the taste burning your lungs, but not more than the look Kim gives you.
(Somewhere in Revachol, a man smokes a cigarette. His outfit is entirely black leather: heavy boots, tight pants, jacket and cap — in spite of the cold, the open jacket displays a bare chest. Another man, dressed similarly, leans on a motorcycle. Dark gloves shine near the flame of a lighter, leather brushing against skin. A rough sort of tenderness.)
A shudder takes your body for an instant, only to leave you back to that warmth, all the way down your stomach. It all comes together now: the suggestion in Kim's words, how those boys looked as if they were lost in a house of mirrors, your turn in this game. A detective always figures out.
"Yeah."
You take another drag as you look to the light behind the metal grille door, like a smoke could make the warmth last longer.
It can.
"I bet the infra-materialism stuff is even better." You say, looking back at the lieutenant with mischief. Something glints in his eyes and you see the beginning of a laugh being shaken off in amused disbelief.
"By the way, I have big news, Kim…"
It is a late Friday night in Revachol and tired workers look forward to the weekend. Two police officers go through their clues after hours, two communist students have a breakthrough in their discussion, pairs of lovers meet in dark streets — the city looks out for all.
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My favorite thing about Cuno is you could realistically find any scenario for him to interact with another character because he's always just around. He goes where he isn't supposed to and he loves to harrass people, there's no reason he couldn't be in Evrarts office, or Klaasje's balcony, or fucking around with Dros on the island. I bet he's been to a student commie meeting and I bet he's called them loser virgins and I bet Ulixes would respect Harry for punching him because of it. World's most character, he's so versatile.
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