Raju's tentative hand is drifting toward his hair, now. It's a different kind of shock from the rest, to find it neatly swept back and held there. He thinks he keeps himself as neat as he can, here, but there's only so much you can do with scissors, a comb, and wet hair. But it wouldn't do, would it, wearing the rest of this without looking neat. Neat enough to show respect for the uniform. For what it represents.
He takes a slow, bracing breath, gaze finally moving up to Francis as his hand drifts down again. He tucks the hard helmet under his elbow, an automatic gesture, and his gaze slides off Francis' eyes and toward the floor. "I haven't worn this one before," he says quietly, tone bare of anything much. "It's the one I... wanted."
He lifts his arms a little, palms up, studying the sleeves. "It fits." He doesn't know why that seems notable. As if he'd outgrown it, here.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-07-31 12:40 pm (UTC)He takes a slow, bracing breath, gaze finally moving up to Francis as his hand drifts down again. He tucks the hard helmet under his elbow, an automatic gesture, and his gaze slides off Francis' eyes and toward the floor. "I haven't worn this one before," he says quietly, tone bare of anything much. "It's the one I... wanted."
He lifts his arms a little, palms up, studying the sleeves. "It fits." He doesn't know why that seems notable. As if he'd outgrown it, here.