Lou was grateful that the young man leading him by the hand took the back roads to their destination, on high alert for any other dolls they might encounter. The mussy blonde would have been devastated should anyone in the Institute see him not only unkempt, but tear-stained and puffy.
Now, there in Nolan's cozy, off-yellow kitchen, Lou sat on a stool at a dark marble counter while the brunette with green hair streaks finished wringing out a large washcloth at his sink.
As Nolan turned around and offered a kind smile, approaching the seated party, Lou's eyes swept him up and down in just a hint of hesitation. His posture was already a little stiff, as he was not accustomed to being a guest in anyone's home. He'd never made much of an effort to reach out to his fellow dolls for such things as intimate visits, and wasn't entirely sure how he should act when it was not his home he was interacting with others in. As well, he was not used to anyone showing him the level of attentive compassion Nolan had while the pair had been seated on the back stoop of The Gauntlet.
In the aftermath of their conversation, and especially their kiss, Lou had simply been letting it all sink in. He still felt lighter. Better. Like everything he had shared with the other doll had been the right thing to do. But it was so foreign...so unfamiliar that he really didn't know what to do with this lighter feeling. He was practically caramelized with amazement at this sensation of progress in overcoming his many-year struggle of frustration and abandonment, simply watching what was happening next and unsure how to move forward. Nolan had offered to help, so he was going to have to be the one showing Lou what 'helping him be the leader he once was' really meant.
Seeing Lou's almost distrustful glance as he approached with the steaming warm washcloth, Nolan's smile widened as his face relaxed in sympathetic assurance. Of course Lou wouldn't know how to trust someone else to care for him. "Don't worry," he quipped, "This'll feel nice. I'm not going to smother you. Promise."
That said, he reached the cloth for Lou's cheek, the same one he'd massaged with his thumb while they'd kissed, and matched the motion, swirling a tender knead into the side of the blonde man's face and taking away the crust of bitter salty streaks.
Taken back to that moment, and feeling the comforting gesture soothe nearly a dozen times better thanks to the hot steam, Lou automatically felt his eyelids melt shut, the sarcastic remark he had planned to make dying on his lips as he simply sighed. Unexpected to both of them, his reflex was to simply tip his head into that hand. Instantly, though he could not explain why, Lou just...loved that feeling. He felt cared for. He felt safe. He felt like he could trust Nolan. All of his stress was wiped away in that moment, from the harrowing reveal of his past to the events themselves. All of it, gone.
Still, as the washcloth took its first pull away from his face, Lou opened his eyes and noted flatly, "I could have just done that myself."
Sheepishly, Nolan's smile skewed slightly and he offered the cloth forward after giving it a quick dip in a hot water dish he'd put on the counter. "Sorry. Do you want to do it..?" It had just been his instinct to wipe Lou's face for him. He could see it better. Although perhaps Lou just wanted to use the hand mirror he carried at all times or something.
Face stiffening into a mild pout, Lou glanced away, caught. "...no." He had to admit it. He was used to doing everything for himself as much as possible, and he didn't want to seem weak, but this...Nolan wasn't judging him here. And it had felt nice, just like he'd said. Always one to take what he wanted, Lou simply decided that he wanted this. Closing his eyes again, he leaned his face up a micro degree in expectation.
Nolan gave a minute tut, endeared by the curt way Lou appeared to be processing the realization that he enjoyed someone genuinely caring for him. It was nice to see some of the old, confident Lou on display. He truly must have been feeling better.
So, more than willing to continue his task, Nolan placed the cloth back to Lou's face, rubbing gently into the crook of the ex-dictator's eye, clearing his tear ducts and watching Lou's eyebrows go up. His face slacked as a reflex, but also like he was surprised to note that he was letting someone touch him so intimately. That it still felt good and he really could trust Nolan to continue being kind.
Nolan's face was fond as he worked. He was glad that he could show this jaded man the kind of benefits simply being honest and asking for help could bring. Sure, Lou hadn't meant to spill his guts as he had, but Nolan was glad that he had. No one should have to carry around such burdens as this doll before him had. Happily, he washed that pain-soaked face of its evidence, delighting in the comfort that grew there instead.
...
Face clear, Lou could admit he felt like a new doll. Everything felt fresh now. That weight off his mind and the tears washed off his face made him feel incredibly light. Dare he say almost happy. However, he was still at a loss for how to incorporate this fresh perspective, and it did not prevent him from being nervous about how Nolan's stylist friends were going to react to seeing him. Only Nolan had talked to him properly after the fiasco where he was overthrown. He could only assume the rest of the dolls retained some reservations about his presence.
Thoughts about the disgust and offense he might meet ran through his head as he sat in a bathrobe borrowed from Nolan, while the freckled tailor-slash-model toiled away in the other room, his studio, repairing the shrunken, rumpled black suit that had been split at the seams by Lou's punishing washer ride.
Lou almost couldn't believe this level of charity that had been promised to him was actually being honored. He was definitely becoming confident in Nolan's integrity. The heterochromic mouse of a doll was upholding his wholesome word so immediately after such big promises. It was...refreshing.
Perhaps his friends would be similar, then? Perhaps they were all so confoundingly receptive and endeared by this 'openness' that Nolan seemed to like so much?
He could only hope. However, he could feel himself working up a nice defensive shell as his thoughts for the worse continued, preparing for rejection in advance. This was quite a familiar feeling, as it was something he'd gone through every time a new wave of Model 12's had come through his Institute to be trained to leave him.
Nolan tried to work as fast as possible, not wanting to leave Lou by his lonesome so fresh off of a huge emotional breakthrough, but also trying to take as much care as he possibly could in repairing the damaged suit. As the one who had suggested the washer that ruined it, he felt he only owed it to Lou to make the outfit better than before, as a way to make amends.
Looking up at the sound of the door, he was surprised to see Lou shuffle in a bit awkwardly. The bathrobe dangled freely open, showing off the briefs that were all Lou had on currently quite well. It appeared the blonde man's shyness streak continued to be incredibly minimal. Nolan forced his gaze away, however, embarrassed enough for the both of them, as he asked if Lou needed something.
Lou had simply said he was...bored. His tone suggested he'd almost considered saying something else, perhaps the word 'lonely' or 'uncomfortable', but was trying to save face. He'd asked if he could sit in here while he waited, to make sure Nolan was doing his mending right, and then asked about Nolan's friends. What were they like? Should he be prepared for verbal fisticuffs?
Nolan realized leaving the other alone with his thoughts must have been getting to Lou after all, and readily agreed to letting him stay in the work area if he was more comfortable here...he just also asked that it be on the condition Lou closed his bathrobe.
Then he informed the mussy-haired man as best he could while he worked. It had to be admitted that Nolan's friends were...not the most sympathetic to Lou after he'd been outed as such a cruel-hearted ruler, but that they would be open enough to hearing him out under the right circumstances, and that Nolan would be there to help things go smoothly. Once they heard Nolan wanted to get Lou's hair repaired as a step towards helping their ex-leader's self-improvement, he was sure that they would warm up to the idea. They were nice, really.
He spoke about the two dolls that they would be going to see, suggesting that two was going to be a nice easy start to interact with. One was blue-haired boy named Marshall, and the other was a green-haired girl named Beatrice. She had orange streaks in her hair. Marshall liked the Fall and had a hobby in collecting buttons. Beatrice liked campfire cooking and petting zoos.
Lou's lips shifted as he sat and listened, normally not one to care at all about the personal lives of other dolls, but he had asked. The pair didn't sound particularly threatening. This he was glad for. As well, they were important to Nolan, so he felt compelled to take at least a portion of interest for his sake. Although...he was really more interested in the young man himself, he would have to say. The conversation already so strangely as easy as it had been at The Gauntlet, he decided to press for details on Nolan next. What did Nolan like, then? Why was he such a goody-goody?
The freckled party tutted a bit awkwardly, saying that he supposed he was just born with the will to be kind. He felt that most dolls were good deep down. But well, as for things he liked, he supposed he enjoyed dancing, reading, eating, exploring, trying new things...his favorite color was yellow.
He was touched to see Lou taking a natural interest in him. It showed that the connection they'd felt wasn't so fleeting after all. As well, talking to Lou in a more casual setting proved to be incredibly easy. Nolan hadn't been aware he could be such a chatterbox, but as the topic turned friendlier, he was much less tense and just kept finding one more thought to hop to while in the middle of another.
Perhaps he was pouncing on the pleasant atmosphere and was eager to show Lou how enjoyable a connection could be, but he just couldn't help talking about everything from the time his friends attempted to "glam up" the giant 'Ugly!' sign he'd been absent-mindedly keeping around his neck until just recently, to the fried eggs he'd had this morning that ended up looking slightly like an alien face.
Surprisingly as well, Lou did not find this nearly as mundane as he would have expected. He...liked hearing Nolan talk. When it was relaxed, he was so bright and chipper. Very endearing. He gave off a cozy vibe, even.
The most surprising thing, Lou was so wrapped up in listening that he didn't even realize he'd forgotten to talk about himself until Nolan asked. The blonde had blinked, noting he had in fact neglected to share. How unusual. He was usually his favorite topic.
In the same moment, Nolan declared that he'd completed the fix-up on the suit, and stepped back from the dressing dummy he'd been in front of to reveal the outfit's completion.
It looked better than new. Lou was at a loss for words as he scanned over every detail, crisp and perfect. He'd thrown the thing on impatiently behind a modesty screen provided, and was even more stunned to discover it was a flawless fit. In fact, it fit better than it had before. Nolan really was a professional tailor.
Lou gave himself a hug as he hummed and basked in this fit. It felt so right to be in form-fitting style again. Nolan was entertained. Then Lou lamented that there wasn't nearly enough time for him to talk about himself if they were going to go see Nolan's friends now.
Nolan simply smiled and pointed out that he could tell him on the way. The trip did not have to be as silent as the one to his home.
The smile had been returned in realization, and Lou admitted, "Well, you know I do have a flare for dancing...I should see what you've got sometime. Compare our levels." He'd inspected his nails coyly while saying this, which got a bashful chuckle out of Nolan. He caught the implication, and got butterflies just thinking about dancing with the other.
As they left the house, this time taking the front door and the main road, Lou felt some timidity return. Several dolls were out, both Model 12's and the Ugly Doll rejects, and all had a lingering gaze for him when he was spotted. Many had a curled lip or a cold gaze for him.
Feeling a familiar cold pit firming in his belly, Lou's lips pursed. Nolan really felt he could win these fickle people back over? They'd all dumped him so harshly in an instant. Yes, he'd been using them, but none of them seemed like they'd be particularly open to the truth that Nolan seemed so confident would endear him to them.
Glancing down at the free-swinging hand Nolan was not using to escort him this time, Lou decided he would like the walk better with that comfort and took it.
Nolan's brow went up and he glanced sideways at the other, but only found Lou walking tall and proud by his side, eyes determinedly forward. Nolan's own eyes dipped groundward, off to the side as he smiled shyly and also became even more overly aware of the attention they were getting, whispers of confusion and intrigue starting.
He knew he must look odd walking so casually down the street with the most famous doll in the factory and known ruthless dictator, but he wasn't exactly ashamed. He was just self-conscious. They weren't a pair you'd expect to see together on an average day, especially holding hands. But he also realized the self-consciousness must be a thousand times worse for the man who'd committed the crimes that earned him those dirty looks, even if Lou masked it well. Sympathetically, Nolan squeezed his hand. If that gave him security, he could gladly give it.
...
With a knock on the hair salon door, Nolan then opened it and peeked his head in through the crack, calling, "Helloooo..! Anybody in? Hair emergency..!"
From an archway leading into the next room, two dolls wandered in, one with mid-toned skin and blue hair, the other dark-skinned with green hair streaked with orange. They both wore expressions of puzzle before their faces lit up in twin beams. "Nolaaan~!"
Pushing the door open fully, Nolan was glad to see his friends weren't busy and came in with arms wide in reception for hugs. "Marshall; Beety~..!" All three shared a brief squeeze in greeting before the young woman questioned, "Your hair looks fine as ever, Nolan. Where's the emergency?"
With a glance behind him, Nolan waved for Lou to come in, the blonde man having hovered unsurely by the door, glancing about much as he had while in Nolan's home. His nerves were getting the better of him again, and it was almost intimidating witnessing such an act of camaraderie when he knew he was currently the local Pariah.
Indeed, both stylists paused, their faces falling blankly as they witnessed Lou, star of the Institute, though in a very poor light these days, come forward to stand by Nolan's side. Both their eyes locked onto that absolute mess of hair that had been destroyed by the washer's spin cycle, before glancing over the rest of the man and registering that aside from this he practically looked like his old self. He was so clean, and his suit was immaculate.
"Lou..?"
"Wait...you want us to fix Lou's hair?"
"Wait. Nolan, did...you fix Lou up too..?"
"Yeah. His suit was not that fine last time I saw him, and I'd know that stitch work anywhere."
"Did he threaten you?"
"You better tell us if he did, boy..!"
Both stylists had crossed their arms adamantly as they sent stern expressions Nolan's way, clearly certain he was under duress.
Chuckling awkwardly, Nolan put his hands up in a mix of defense and a signal to calm the other two down. "Easy, guys. I swear, it's nothing like that. I know you've had your thoughts about Lou, but I'd also really appreciate it if you didn't make him uncomfortable right now." Clasping his own hands now in plea, he pressed, "He really needs as many friends as he can get right now-"
Beatrice snorted. "Yeah I'll bet!"
Nolan's brow sterned her way. "-and..! I would like the two of you to show him that I'm not the only doll who would be willing to show him hospitality."
He glanced toward Lou, whose face had darkened at the snide comment this 'Beatrice' had shot about him, his posture going rigid in a familiar aggressive stance. Lou's eyes flicked from her, radiating offense, to Nolan, calling doubt to his insistence about how 'nice' these people were supposed to be.
Beatrice and Marshall both blinked, sharing a small uncertain glance. The blue-haired boy questioned, "After he showed us what a manipulative liar he is..? Why would we? Are we missing something here..?"
"Yeah! And for that matter, why would you?" challenged Beatrice, "Last I knew, you liked going to watch him work off his offense."
On instinct, Nolan took a step back beside Lou and reached to grab his hand in comfort again. He could feel the blonde man riling as he was discussed so dismissively, while he was right there.
Nolan insisted, "I was wrong."
Instantly, he felt everyone's hackles lower in surprise. All eyes on him, he persisted, albeit shyly, "I think...I'm sure...that all of us are wrong. Did either of you ever stop and think about why Lou might have acted the way he did? Did you not hear him say how he's trapped here during that whole Gauntlet thing?"
Another glance between the two stylists as they let out some hemming noises. "Maybe..?" Marshall offered, while Beatrice shrugged beside him. They'd both been more focused on how immediately after that, he'd run straight to the portal, determined to destroy it.
Feeling like he'd gotten a foothold in, Nolan smiled in a spot of relief and hurried to continue his argument. "Exactly. There's a lot more to it than that, but everything that happened at The Gauntlet is something that's been building for a long time, and it's all of our faults."
He could feel everyone's gazes shifting, softening in confusion, but most of all he felt Lou's eyes burning his cheek, obviously hesitant about how much Nolan was going to say, and unsure about how he was planning to convince others to give him a chance. Nolan shifted his own eyes to give Lou a soft, assuring smile.
"None of us ever really talked to Lou, did we?" the brunette carried on, "None of us ever thought about what loving and leaving him might actually be doing. What being a prototype might actually mean."
His two friends furrowed their brows in processing here, noting the soft contact and the deeper connection the others seemed to suggest with their eyes. Something had clearly happened that they were not aware of, but Nolan's points actually made some sense, too.
Looking back to his friends, Nolan lifted Lou's hand and placed his other one over back of it. "I've talked to him. I've learned more about Lou today than I ever thought I could, and we're not happy with how things have turned out, either. I want to help him be his old self again. Not the one we knew, but the Lou he was meant to be." With one more encouraging smile towards their old leader, he gently nudged, "There's something you want to say to everyone, right? How about a practice run?"
A flash of fear crossed Lou's face, but it was only for a microsecond before he masked it with an air of stoicism. He cleared his throat and stood even taller, mind racing. He hadn't expected for Nolan to throw the conversation over to him, but he supposed this way he could ensure nothing was spilled that he didn't want revealed. But was he really ready to do this so soon? What should he say to other dolls to make them understand his position? He did not want to sob so openly as he had to Nolan. Not to every doll in town.
Eyes darting around again, they landed on the hand that Nolan still held in both of his, squeezing gently in support, and Lou let out a small breath through his nose. He squeezed back and reminded himself that he was fearless. He wanted to regain his old self, and in order to do that, he had to start somewhere. The sooner the better, really, lest he change his mind or draw into a shell of a different kind.
Other hand balling into a steadying fist, he faced the other two in the shop. "Yes." His voice was a rehearsed evenness, but the tone betrayed the alien nature of the words. "I want to say that I'm not proud of how I treated you. I was bitter, and still am, about being a prototype. Being one is...lonely."
Another small clear of the throat as his gaze took a brief dip for the floor. Beatrice and Marshall's brows went up and they blinked in tandem. This was nothing like they'd ever heard from this man. It sounded quite hard to say, and almost like he was holding onto Nolan as a crutch.
"But I want to be...better." Lou pressed forward with a single sharp nod. "I wasn't always a ruthless dictator. I still have love within me, and I want to...be able to use it...like the rest of you...again. I'm...ssssorry..?" Was that what he was supposed to say? He sounded most unsure of all as he pinched one lower eyelid and awkwardly delivered the apology.
The pair of stylists stared blankly in the next few seconds, the silence so thick it was palatable. Lou...the Lou had just spoken in a way unheard of. He was nervous, almost vulnerable, and above all...apologetic? Or trying to be.
Finally, the two in front of their ex-leader burst into laughter, hardly believing this was happening, and how pathetic the attempt at saying the word 'sorry' had been.
Lou's face immediately hardened into disbelief of his own, eyes scanning over the giggling pair in obvious offense. "Hey!" he barked, feeling his instinct to curtail disrespect surfacing, and took a step forward. "That wasn't a punchline! If you're not going to listen, then I'll...I'll personally bulldoze this place and turn it into a personal car storage lot! Would that be funny?"
Nolan grimaced as the other two trailed off their giggles and wiped their eyes. Beatrice put a hand on her hip and returned, "Get off your high horse, Louserino. I wasn't laughing at you."
The blonde looked confused again, brow still furrowed as he gave the others another scan.
Marshall straightened out of the hunch he'd been in and added, "It's just kind of funny how clearly out of practice you are at being honest. But I can tell you were."
"Call it a shock laugh," Beatrice carried on, "Though if you're really going to go for threats right off the bat, you can forget about getting your hair done."
Lou blinked and Nolan sighed in relief. To clear some of the confusion, he patted the back of Lou's hand and explained, "We're all tense. Trust me, I almost felt like laughing to break the silence, too." To his friends, he asked hopefully, "But you mean it, right? You'll fix him up?"
Coming forward, the two stylists flanked Lou's sides, giving him a pair of smarmy smiles now, enjoying a little how tense and unfamiliar Lou was with what was going on around him.
"Sure..!" Beatrice granted, "I believe you too. And if Nolan's this sure about you, then I trust him."
"Ditto," Marshall nodded, "Come on into our parlor, Lou. We'll have you even more flawless than you ever were in a jiffy."
Together, the pair ushered Lou forward and into the room they'd come from. Lou felt a sting of panic when his hand disconnected from Nolan's, and he passed the young man a wide flick of his eyes before looking to see where he was being pushed.
It was a large parlor indeed, with stylish barber chairs at each oversized station. There was one with an massive sink, where Lou was being ushered now, as well as several vanities with lightbulb-rimmed mirrors and stations with hairdryer machines.
Finding himself thrown back into the chair, Lou heard water begin to run behind him as Beatrice threw a vinyl shield cloth around his front.
"First thing," Marshall informed as he sampled the water for temperature before stopping the drain, allowing the sink to fill, "We're going to have to boil you out, get those locks nice and malleable."
Having never needed his hair done, Lou was very uncertain of what to expect. He simply held silent, eyes darting about as he absorbed the information.
Nolan had let out an involuntary chuckle as Lou seemed quite overwhelmed by the turnabout to acceptance his friends had made. He followed to the other room and stopped at a distance safely out of the way of the work, but within Lou's sightline. He tipped his head and offered yet another assuring smile. To his pleasure, Lou seemed to take his presence as a positive, and allowed the others to swarm him, Beatrice fingering his hair and gushing about how silky and smooth it was. No other doll had such glossy wax infused with their yarn. Marshall had to come see and agreed.
The compliment actually seemed to relax Lou some, flattery familiar territory he could work with. He smirked smugly and chuckled in agreement, subtly bragging about how wonderful a condition he'd kept it in all these years.
Hair care was a topic the stylists could obviously get into, and as the sink filled and they pushed the ex-tyrant back into the scalding water, asked him about how he'd managed not to lose the sheen and kept his perfect swoop until now. They offered some extra tips as well.
Nolan observed happily as an amiable attitude managed to form, Lou even closing his eyes in relax as Marshall massaged his plastic in the hot water, running his fingers through the corded locks to loosen them. He heard Lou mentioning how Nolan had praised the pair's work, almost hinting some skepticism, but the pair shrugged that off and assured that they indeed had been born spectacularly skilled hair artists.
Lou had the steps explained to him as his hair was delicately painted with waxy touch-ups, molded and set into its proper shape and boiled and dried until absolutely no frizz remained. It ended up being a rather painless experience, Lou was happy to discover, and the results made him find it easier and easier to relax as it went on, though he still preferred keeping Nolan in the room and part of the conversation. He was an excellent mediator when it came to any potential bicker over Lou's old policies, or when a line was close to being crossed. As well, he was just comfortable to be around. He'd really done something magical to Lou to make the blonde man want to show progress for his sake. And, amazingly, just talking to these other dolls, they were kind of...nice. Alright to have a regular intimate chat with.
Huh.
The only real hiccup came towards the end while Lou was admiring himself in one of those vanity mirrors while Marshall fluffed his bangs to make sure they stayed that way while he used a handheld hairdryer on them. Lou was marveling at the work, touching his cheek and almost hypnotized by how much he looked like his old self - his old brand new self - feeling a small smile creep in, when Beatrice leaned in with a paintbrush and swirled it in a suggestive circle.
"Hey, so, while we're at it, you wanna get some color in there?"
Lou gasped in reaction to the bristles so near his face and jolted backwards, knocking Marshall's hairdryer and causing him to juggle it in fumble, but luckily not dropping it.
"Woah, wait! Excuse me?!"
Beatrice blinked at the man who'd tucked his knees up in fright, not sure what the big deal was. "Uh...color, you know? Like most of us have?" She plucked at one of her orange strands buried among the green. "Are you afraid of highlights..?"
Drumming his fingers against his shins, Lou gave a feeble chuckle. He wouldn't say that exactly, but he'd always been touted as a perfect specimen. His hair had always been just one solitary color of golden yellow. He'd spent years preserving that image, training himself to expertly avoid even one splash of color that didn't belong on him. It would certainly say something about his willingness to be a more open person if he allowed something like paint to touch his hair, but at the same time, he just...couldn't imagine himself making such a change, however minute. He'd considered it ugly for too long. He was sick of feeling ugly and miserable. He just...wanted to be himself right now.
Nolan gave him a concerned look, worried something might be very wrong about the suggestion, that Lou might have taken genuine offense that his precious appearance be threatened. "Lou, it's okay," he rushed to assure, "You don't have to."
Realizing how stupid it must look to recoil from a simple brush that didn't even have any paint on it, Lou collected himself. He didn't actually want to be rude either, for he recognized that he'd been successful thus far in appealing himself to these dolls, even if the process hadn't been flawless. So, clearing his throat, he offered a non-commital, "I'll...think about it." One more drum of his fingers before he let his legs relax and drop back to the floor.
Everyone recognized that he'd said this simply to drop the subject and forget about it, but Beatrice took the cue and stepped away in acceptance. "Alright, well, if you do decide you want some, you know where to come, right?" A playful wink was tossed into the mirror, and Lou smiled minutely to note his intense reaction was being treated with tact. He glanced up to meet Marshall's reflection, and the wink was repeated from the blue-haired man.
Nolan offered, "You look great, anyway, Lou. Factory new." He meant it as well. As Marshall finished his detail work and let Lou stand to admire himself completely, it was like a whole new doll was before them. He radiated an air of confidence as he tugged his sleeve cuff and smiled at himself, but something was different compared to the arrogant aura he'd held only a few weeks ago. It was like he was recognizing that someone else had helped him look this way. That cruel bite was gone from his face, and Nolan could still swear that gentle, pleading light was in his eyes when Lou looked at him, asking him not to let the man get lost the same way again.
"I feel it," was all Lou vocalized, however. To Marshall and Beatrice he nodded and granted, "Thank you." He was sure this time that that was the appropriate thing to say.
His stylists for the day smiled in turn. Lou really was trying to turn things around for himself, wasn't he? They'd half-expected him to laugh at them for falling for his sob story act and helping him regain an authoritative look so he could take over Perfection once more, but no. Just a humble thank you. He really did feel like a completely different doll.
With renewed confidence in Nolan's judgement, no longer suspect that he was being suckered into playing a dictator's pawn, the brunette's friends waved the others off happily, noticing Lou once more grabbing hold of Nolan's hand as they entered the public. It seemed like Lou was quite insecure deep down. But if they knew Nolan, no one else was a better bleeding heart to help out here. They would leave him to it and support him by reworking their stance on their old ruler.
Nolan noticed the grip to his hand as well, but also that Lou didn't seem nearly as tense as before. His posture was grand, and in a way, he was actually glowing.
"You good?" the freckled one checked, "That wasn't too much, was it?"
Lou tutted. "Please. You're looking at a natural-born speaker. I think I can handle a crowd of two."
A returned tut. "Well, that's good. You're feeling better, then? You look like you are."
"Auh, leagues, you have no idea," Lou rolled his eyes in emphasis, "There may be something to your whole crazy 'open and honest' idea, too." Emboldened, he even passed a wink to one of the dolls stopping and turning to look at him. Many on the street were now gawking at his distinctly un-disheveled appearance, as well as how he was holding hands with someone. A someone rather different from the rest of the Pretties, who should by all accounts be considered ugly.
Nolan gave a shy giggle in response. "I'm glad you think so. So then, are you still feeling nervous about something?" He glanced at the hand he'd thought Lou was holding for security.
Letting out a small breath, Lou confessed, "Maybe some. Maybe I can admit that even a predictable success with two of your friends doesn't mean the entire public will follow so easily." A small, purse-lipped beat. "But I think I'm really just holding your hand because I want to."
Nolan's eyes blinked wider and he felt a flutter in his chest, cheeks heating as he became even more shy. "Eh..?" He felt more confident about it when he was just being caring, consoling the other, but holding hands 'because' felt much more intimate, and he was still incredibly shy about thinking of Lou romantically, if not only because of how forward Lou seemed to be about such things. Though the idea seemed confirmed as something he still wanted to consider even after his emotions had calmed.
Having to think about it in a moment of internal assessment, Lou confirmed, "Yes. I'm...grateful. Grateful that you've made good on your promises. That you've let me feel this much better. I trust you to keep it up. And I just kind of...want to stay close? I guess? I'm feeling a bit drained, emotionally, but I don't want to let go."
Nolan blushed harder. Eye contact became more difficult. He cleared his throat to shake his own nerves loose so he could respond, "I'm...flattered. That you still want to get close. I suppose I could...walk you home, then? If you're tired." Impressively, he couldn't see any of it show. The other must have been expertly practiced at hiding things like fatigue. Almost sad in a way, recalling the kind of fatigue he'd been masking through the years.
"That's where I'm headed, babe," Lou smirked, enjoying the flushed surprise on the other's face.
In a way, Nolan was glad Lou was regaining some of his influential swagger, hearing a destination was already in mind, but it was just so flustering to hear himself addressed so casually by a pet name. The thought of helping Lou regain his love through his own was still simultaneously terrifying and exciting.
In response to these feelings, all he could do was smile and look down, eyes glued to the plastic pavement as he walked with the other. He heard Lou chuckle softly, but it was left at that.
The blonde man actually found the silence comfortable as they walked, liking to know that Nolan was still with him by his side, in multiple senses. He hadn't lied about anything. He'd let Lou feel new. Lou had watched how much work he'd put into fixing his suit. How he'd worked at making sure things with his friends had gone well. It was confounding that someone would actually go to the effort for a broken tyrant like him, but so touching. Lou was feeling that he genuinely could trust this doll. That the things he'd spoken about the future might just be possible. That he was truly someone Lou could like, and he wanted to keep him around. He wanted to kiss him again.
They reached Lou's large manor of tinted glass in amicable silence. At the front door, they paused for a moment, observing their connected reflection in the door. They looked awkward, but happy. Nolan was not really sure what to say, coming up with a lamely-delivered, "So...I suppose this would be good night, then?" They'd been up all night and the better part of the day working on Lou's image. They could both do with an extra long sleep despite the artificial sun still being up.
A gentle snort as Lou shook his head lightly. Nolan was just as adorably innocent about intimacy as he had been on The Gauntlet's stoop.
"I really do want to thank you, you know," the man in the crisp suit noted, "I feel...the most calm I have in years thanks to your butting in."
With a bashful smile, Nolan simply had to respond to that. "I'm glad. And you're welcome. I hope we can keep working on that. Destination: Big World, right..?" His free fist pumped feebly like pulling a train whistle.
A wistful touch came to Lou's eyes, but he gave a relenting nod. "We'll see. But...just to be sure, you're not suddenly going to be over me once you go home, right?" He couldn't help it. Letting dolls go was something that haunted him.
Involuntarily snorting at the weightiness of the suggestion, Nolan blushed further and hurried to collect himself lest Lou take offense. "Ah, sorry, I just...no way. Okay? I promised. And like I told you, I want to see the Lou you told me about. Get to know him. I want to help him come out."
His eyes were too honest. Lou couldn't stay offended at them. Nolan really found the idea of just up and abandoning him to be ridiculous. In relief, Lou let a smooth smile slide onto his lips.
"You'd better mean it. He's been waiting a long time to see the sunshine." With that, he took the hand he was holding and spun Nolan around gracefully, catching him in a low dip. "So from both of us...hello." A firm kiss pressed Nolan's lips. "And good night." Another kiss.
Once sure Nolan's face was painted completely pink, Lou swirled him around back up on his feet and jaunted backwards toward the door, winking and shooting double trigger fingers as he suavely clicked his tongue.
Then just like that, he was gone, leaving Nolan in a swirl of butterflies. There was no denying Lou had a very forward charm about him. Fireworks were still going off in his brain as Nolan stared at that closed door.
All of a sudden, he let out a very dorky snort-laugh and his arms curled awkwardly. Oh god, he just couldn't contain his giddiness. He was happy Lou was so bold again, and without the taste of tears, a kiss from him was just...so much better. Still hiding the insecurity of being left alone, still asking to be understood in everything from regret to gratitude, but still...amazing. And really, Lou was a bit of a cornball, wasn't he? How cute.
Now grinning like a ninny, Nolan turned to head to his own home, unsure how Lou could ever imagine he wouldn't want to keep his word.
Inside, Lou watched from behind the tinted glass until Nolan turned to go. He was glad the heterochromic one seemed charmed by his actions above all else. The way he flustered and squirmed to himself was cute. But as well, Lou felt relief that Nolan seemed taken with him. He was almost certain he'd indeed confirmed Nolan would stay with him. Who wouldn't want to stay if it was implied more sugar was coming their way?
Turning to trot up the stairs and get into bed, Lou just couldn't be one hundred percent sure. So many dolls had sworn up and down that they loved him. Tried to pry affection from him. And every single one of them had left him. Gone through that portal without a second thought. Or simply turned on him when his true jaded nature had burst out. Nolan was the first doll Lou truly felt like giving affection, and it was true, Nolan had been completely different. The way they'd spoken was entirely different from any conversation Lou had had previously. But he'd never even said he loved Lou. He said he had once, but not now. Nolan was no longer an infatuated fanboy. He was something different, but without some kind of confirmation like a declaration of devotion, Lou couldn't help feeling a sliver of fear. Like he needed to give Nolan a reason to return to him.
There was no way he could really just have been drawn to Lou and Lou alone when he'd been sobbing his eyes out, right? Part of it had to have been because of the kiss. And Lou had felt himself opening up in such a new way, he was sure if he didn't make sure he kept Nolan's interest, he would risk the young man drifting away just like all the others. Lou's attachment to him felt new, scary and vulnerable, just as much as it felt comfortable and full of hope. If he lost it, he was sure it would be the most painful loss he'd ever experienced, and he wasn't even sure what he'd do if he did. He was afraid of how much more damage he'd be capable of. Nolan's proposal sounded so much better. Lou longed for real connections. He longed for a life full of love. If he could keep Nolan's attention, perhaps he could keep that hope.
Rolling over and tugging the blanket tight around him, Lou did his best to chase away the demons of loneliness looming over him, praying that he'd prove strong enough to break out of his old habits at all. Praying that he could make Nolan pleased with him.