Randall looked over at Des as he watched the sun set over the horizon of San Grio. The water was sparkling, the clear sky turning into shades of red and orange. The colors sent beautiful colors and shades across the two on the beach.
Randall was captivated at how beautiful Desmond looked. The red-eyed man was leaning back on the beach, back on his hands, which were splayed out on the sand behind him, digging into the ground. He had changed out of his normal attire; he was wearing a white tank top now, a pair of swimming shorts on instead of his normal black slacks. His hair was out of the normal bunches around his neck -- it was now sweeping down his back in gentle waves and dips. A small, contented smile appeared on Desmond's face as the sun continued to set.
Randall couldn't help but smile at him; even though he wouldn't see it, Randall's smile made it obvious how much he loved the red-eyed man.
"Des." Randall moved a hand to lace into one of Desmond's. The other man sighed, his smile growing slightly. He had taken his mask off beforehand; it was now on the Bostonius with Raymond. "You… have beautiful eyes, you know that?" Desmond looked over at Randall, his smile dropping into a wry expression as he let out a scoff, his hand moving away from the redhead's.
"Hm. I wouldn't exactly say that…." Desmond moved to his feet, stretching. Randall sighed. Guess the moment was over. The red eyed man moved to the line where the dry sand turned damp, the ocean washing up against his feet. Randall, after a moment, stood and walked to where Desmond was.
"They are," Randall insisted. "Why don't you think they are?" Desmond turned to Randall then, the wry smile on his face growing.
"They remind me of someone I'd rather not talk about." Randall frowned, and moved to grab one of Desmond's hands.
"They don't need to remind you of someone. They're your eyes." Des let go of Randall's hand; gave him a light shove.
"Whatever you say, Ascot."
Randall stumbled a bit, but smiled anyways. He pushed Desmond back, and the red-eyed man leaned a bit before snapping back and pushing Randall with all his might with a soft laugh. The redhead landed into the water with a loud exclamation. He shot back up to his feet -- the water was a bit cooler than he'd expected.
"D-Des --!" The red-eyed man gave a snort as the redhead's voice squeaked; Randall's face grew red from embarrassment.
"Are you alright?" Desmond asked after a moment. Randall nodded.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He shook his head back and forth quickly, small droplets of water flinging from his red mess of hair. Desmond smiled for a moment, then it dropped into something more contemplative.
"Do you really like my eyes?" Randall looked over at Des.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Desmond blinked, then looked away. The playful mood was gone, replaced by a sense of unease.
"I have always detested my eyes," Desmond started. "They remind me of my father."
"You mean Raymond?" Desmond immediately shook his head.
"No. He's not my…. My real father." Randall blinked.
"Oh." That made sense. He always thought it was odd that Des didn't really take after Raymond at all. "What happened?"
"I'd… rather not say for now." Desmond pushed his glasses up his nose. "But… I'm happy you don't dislike my eyes. I've been told they're rather… unique."
"I love your eyes." Randall gripped Desmond's hands. "They're so beautiful."
Desmond found himself frowning. "And you're not just saying that?"
"No! I love them so much; I love you so much." Randall placed a kiss on Desmond's lips. "Nothing could change that."
Desmond felt the familiar burn of tears behind his eyes. "Thank you."
Randall smiled. "It is my pleasure."