It's hard to shake practical habits after the apocalypse. Even if he didn't have the same sort of struggles survivors did, there was still a level of ingrained judiciousness.
But then, like right now, he's also had the privilege of letting his hair down. Literally. Faust weaves his hair and his scalp tingles with the careful touches and tugs, like coming to life without him. He's not so distracted that he doesn't listen.
Bianca. Bianca the witch who loved flowers and asked for her hair to be braided. A revolutionary with Faust. That thought prickles uncomfortably, knowing the fates of the others.
"So you... braided for her... Like your sister..." And even now, the skill remained. He sits in the place of a long lost sister and another lost friend. To ask if Faust misses them would be stupid. But-- "Does it... ever bother you... that you... can't remember...?"
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But then, like right now, he's also had the privilege of letting his hair down. Literally. Faust weaves his hair and his scalp tingles with the careful touches and tugs, like coming to life without him. He's not so distracted that he doesn't listen.
Bianca. Bianca the witch who loved flowers and asked for her hair to be braided. A revolutionary with Faust. That thought prickles uncomfortably, knowing the fates of the others.
"So you... braided for her... Like your sister..." And even now, the skill remained. He sits in the place of a long lost sister and another lost friend. To ask if Faust misses them would be stupid. But-- "Does it... ever bother you... that you... can't remember...?"