door number three | {blaine/adrien}

He wondered, lying there in his bed, how much of the decoration was intentional. The deer horns were real; he'd taken them off the wall on the first day to check. But none of the other rooms had deer horns; had they always been here, had this been some shoddy attempt at his father trying to tell him he liked hunting? Or deer?

The curtains, thick and heavy, shimmering golden in the afternoon light. And the pale yellow walls reminded him of a child's nursery, all innocent and warm with a lining of luxury. Had that been on purpose? Some way of making Adrien feel warm, happy? Happy enough to pretend that man who sat at the end of the table in the dining room hadn't ever been there for him?

He tried his best to keep focus on the gears in his hands, gnashing them together and spinning them in his palms, because he didn't want to feel warm and happy. Because he didn't want to know that his father liked hunting. Because he didn't want to over-analyze, and shit. Maybe that was exactly what he was doing. Maybe the yellow color scheme just looked nice; maybe the damn antlers just matched really well.

Tired eyes looked over at his roommate, square-jawed and fists permanently clenched at his sides. He was the light of the room, that one. Confident. But Adrien wasn't sure yet if he was ready to handle such a large responsibility. To be fair, he wasn't sure about anyone yet. Maybe he should've known things like that. Maybe not knowing was a sign that Adrien himself wasn't ready for something like this.

"This room is irritating," Adrien said, sitting up and tucking the gears into his pocket, "Feels like I'm sitting in a preschooler's daydream."

He stood, pulled on an old shirt and nodded to Blaine.

"Wanna go steal food from the kitchen, or smoke a cigarette, or... I don't know. Something?"