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For once, Vic isn't making breakfast. He ate leftover baklava for breakfast, and now he sits by the window, nursing a cup of over-sugared coffee as he looks out over the Village. Without a grin on his face, he looks like such a serious youth, like he's pondering the universe's great mysteries.
Kaleb looked… good. Damn good. Hell he looked like Kaleb again withthe polish on his wingtip oxford shoes, cuffs folsed up neatly, vest pressedin the nce cobalt blue with box stripe, and the pressed slacks in a solid to offeset it. His hair was done and his eyes didn't look like a web of interstate highways. Aside from teh scratch across his cheek and hte back of his hand he looked, once again, dressed to kill. He walked over and got his own damn coffee and invited himself to sit at the window next to Vic, though looking out to see what there was to see.
Vic is at least dressed, despite an apparent antipathy toward pants. He's wearing jeans, a plain white t-shirt that stretches snugly over his chest. His curls are combed neatly, and one has to admit, even dressed down he's a good-looking kid. Kellan didn't do too badly. He looks up at Kaleb, and serious thoughts are dispelled with a soft smile. Outside the window, it's just Greenwich Village, doing what it does. There are artistic types on the sidewalk, cars rolling by in the street. "You look well," he says. "Are you feeling better?"
Kaleb watched the kids playing ball in teh park near wear some folk artists were having a lazy jam. The question got an arched eyebrow from teh stoic Miller. "Thanks to you guys? Somehow yeah, actually." He stretched fingers out towards the park and then pulled arm and hand back bringing up jsut the volume of the guitar strumming away so they could hear it better. He was getting some of it back. His attention swiveled back towards Vic. Sipping his coffee he offered sincerely, "Hey, thanks for keeping the family together when I was out. That was… a hell of a thing you did. You know that right?"
Vic's smile broadens as the guitar sound filters in from a distance. "That's great," he says, absently giving Kaleb's knee a squeeze. The gesture is so mindlessly innocent. He's such a tactile creature (having the novelty of a body that can touch things will do that to a mote). "Aw, thank you for saying that," he says. "I just did what felt right to do. You're family to me, and you needed help." He shrugs as though that's all there is to say about it. "I'd do it any time, every time."
Tiny guitar sound equates to Vic happiness. Noted. Taking a deep breath he tried to figure out how to convey his thought to Vic. Ugh, why wasn't Kellan about to just… do word things at…people. Ah well. "Our family isn't… like that. This is kinda new for Kellan and I. Jay doesn't… really have anyone here. It's different. Important."
Vic thinks about this for a moment, then he nods slowly and says, "Then it's high time you guys had a proper family. I love mine, but they're a little distant. Except Billy and Aunt Lorna, and I'm not really sure what to say to her right now." He lowers his gaze. Is he being a traitor to the family if he gives himself some space from her? That he effectively chose Kaleb? With luck, it would all pass soon. He takes a drink of his coffee, then says, "I'll be here," he says. "Whenever you need me. It's not a chore, you know? It makes me happy."
Kaleb drank his coffee and listened. There was a nod of agreement. Distant family? Check. That resonated with him. Well except for Kellan who he considered the nicer part of himself. "You don't have to say anything. She's with her father right now, and her schoolmates, and her brother and sister. I guess she's healing up right now and she should. It's not our responsibility."
His eyes fixed on the outside world. It tore at him. A person he cared about that ultimately hurt him, neither of them beingin a good place which only made their respective situations worse? Suboptimal. He drank his coffee, tongue running thoughtfully over his lower lip. "Jay's family is… well let's face it they're fucking gone. Kellan and I might actually have just been signed up as pawns to be anted by ours…or not and you… are new and have no actual social ties to yours beyond subjective connectivity." Harsh. True but blunt. His tone was not critisizing.
Almost too-blue eyes looked back to Vic. They looked like Kellans with teh joy replaced by hardness and ..something. "I think you're right though. This-" His eyes traced the room in a box shaped glance before going back to Vic. "It's a different kind of family, but it's family, Vic. And you know you don't have to /do things around here or have a …whatsit… a job thing… in order to be a part of that.You can ask for things. Lots of things. ALL the things Vic."
Vic chews his lip as he thinks. He's not a slow thinker, but there's a lot to think about when so much is a new experience. "Well," he says, "I've got some money saved up. I wouldn't mind investing it, but it won't leave me with much to spare. I could use a nice suit in case something comes up where jeans and t-shirts won't cover it. Maybe a nice warm coat for winter."
Kaleb nodded slowly. There you go Aaaaaaask for things. There was approval in teh look given back to Vic. "See, there you go. See you come to the clothes guy? That I can help you with. Hey then when we all go out you don't have to feel awkward and you can wear something you picked out that you like. If you like a few things, we'll get a few things. Don't… worry about the savings." His eyes rolled a bit and he nursed his coffee that might have more sugar in it than Vic. "Consider it a … thank you or something. Seriously. COats though? There's some fantastic coats down at this place that's got some suuuuper Mod stuff. It's pretty wicked. I dunno what they have but it's pretty neat and all out of England right now. We should go see what's fun."
Vic's features brighten, and his smiles come so easily. "Thank you, Kaleb," he says. "I'm not sure what looks good and what doesn't; OldVic never thought too much about fancy stuff." He takes another drink of his coffee. Caffeine does nothing for him, but with enough sugar and cream, it's delicious. He studies Kaleb for a moment, then seals his fate as he asks, "Would you be willing to take me out and help me pick stuff out?"
Kaleb actually cracked a faint grin, "I don't hink I've ever had to be asked twiceabout going shopping. We can go, I'll teach you the basics and you can reconsile betwen what OldVic might of liked and what you like now. I mean I hear you bring that up a bit. I used to like onions. Then I didn't. Now I really only like grilled onions. Opinions change over time. That's okay to not like things you used to. In this case? Hell it might lead to interesting style choices. I'm kinda curious. Won't lie."
"I do like the way you dress," Vic admits. "You always look so well put together. It makes you seem older, but in a good way." He glances down at himself, not critically, but merely ponderous. "I do get compliments on the t-shirt sometimes." Maybe because the thin fabric stretches across broad-shoulders, a sculpted chest, and abs. Imagine him at work with a tool belt that makes him swagger. "But you can't wear a t-shirt to fancy parties, and you never know when one of those is going to happen."
Echo let the grin hag and nodded, "It's true. They creep up like spiders. Weirdly more legs and generally better music though." He didn'trespond much more than a nod to the compliment, but he did sit up slightly. It was true thoug, iff one were to suppround him with music and a concert he could melt into the most flippant form of himself, but otherwise was in the running to be the youngest 50 year old in the Village. "What kind of colours do you like? All of them aside, do you have a preserence?" He paused and asked almost shocked, "Ooooh my god, VIc you have never actually /seen/ fall outside of memory…" This of all things hit him like a brick.
Vic's brow furrows. "Outside of memory?" he echoes. Shaking his head, he says, "Um, I like blue and green. I like purple but I don't think I could wear it." Not when purple and pink were 'girly' colors. "In fall, I think colors like orange and brown would be good. It'd match the weather, you know?" He smiles then, and he says, "Wait til the leaves start to turn upstate. We'll actually get to see it."
Kaleb hopped to his feet and set the coffeecup on the windowsill. His first two fingers bade Vic to follow him like he was on a mission. His thoughts occupied his head which left him only a bit of room for the agreement, "Yeah we'll be going upstate or Vermont. Sadly Vermont really won that one. Now, let's find out." His closet was like a shrine to the meticulous efforts of tiny Italian men. Everything was put back with care, and neat. He wasn't OCD, he was simply very particular and took great care of this things which, sometimes, people fell into the category of as was the case now. Flipping through jackets on the bar Echo pulled out one and hung the hanger on the wall hook he and and unbuttoned the rick, plum coloured coat. Who knew he had a purple suit. He handed it to Vic and said "Try this with one arm in. I think you're broader in the shoulders than I am but it'll give us an idea."
Vic rises to his feet and follows, finishing off his coffee and putting the cup beside Kaleb's for easy cleanup later. When he spies the purple suit, his eyes widen. "That looks so good," he says. "It isn't girly at all." He takes the coat, handling it with care, since these things are important to Kaleb, and he slips one arm into the coat. His arm is a bit bulked up, so he doesn't pull it all the way on let he tear a seam. Instead, he arranges the front of the coat to fall where it might were he actually wearing it. "What do you think?" he says. Purple's a good color on him. It makes those pale blue eyes pop.
Kaleb warmed a grin with an affirming nod. "Yeah we have a similar colour pallet. I think it can work on ya." He had to chuckle at the explaim on how the colour wasn't girl-ified. "Yeah Max and I went suit hunting a couple weeks back. He made me get the peacock green one too. I feel a tad overstated but I think sometimes you have to be a bit." Says the man that did grey and silver into the ground. "I think… we should hit up blues and greens for ya. Maybe get a lil crazy." He paused and his eyes went slightly wide. He looked at his drawing that he did when he and Vic went to that island that now hung above his headboard. That… tone. He suddenly wnated -that-. "Oooooh Vic. We may have to do this tomorrow. I'm finding myself in sudden need for sandstone and a deep burnt orange."
"I bet it looks good," Vic says as he carefully takes the jacket off his arm. He glances at the drawing, and he smiles faintly. "That was fun," he says. Then, "I don't think Max likes me much." He doesn't sound devastated or anything. It's just an observation. "I think maybe he thinks I'm the help." He laughs a little and shakes his head. "You two really seem to be hitting it off, though."