Leto also has a talent for obliviousness when required. He notices nothing of Midoriya's flush or his hand entwining with Paul's (to be squeezed firmly back), his attention firmly on his nearly finished fish.
Paul, for his part, sees all of it. He only doesn't slump with Midoriya because he wants to be steady enough to bear him up, leaning into him in unwavering support. If his father knows, there's no reason to conceal anything. There's no reason to be unsettled.
He doesn't know if this reaction could have been real. There never had been anyone like Midoriya or Kaworu for Paul to meet, to know as he knows them, to want to bring forward to his father's attention. Paul had always indifferently assumed that one day, the introductions would go the other way around: his father and mother would present him with the girl or woman he'd marry, and that would be that. They would have chosen well for him, and he would have been satisfied with their choice.
But that wasn't how his father and mother came to be together. This memory of his father is a memory that loved his mother to the point of foolishness. Paul would have trusted Leto to have understood, if he'd ever imagined anything like this, and so - he does.
That isn't why it aches. He knows it isn't. But if he pretends himself stuck on a philosophical contemplation, it's easier to bear.
"My father can be a very unserious man," Paul says, the presence of his heart in his throat a familiar one, "It's one of the darkest secrets of House Atreides."
"Ha!" Leto scoffs, softly. "Don't believe a word of it. I take my 'entertaining' very seriously." He flashes a smile brighter than his ring, with a light tinge of sympathy still playing at the corners of his eyes. "Forgive me. It's a father's right to embarrass his son, and Paul here gives me so few opportunities to do so. I have to take the chances I get."
A plain statement, but one full of fond pride. Paul ducks his head, feeling his cheek burn once more.
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Paul, for his part, sees all of it. He only doesn't slump with Midoriya because he wants to be steady enough to bear him up, leaning into him in unwavering support. If his father knows, there's no reason to conceal anything. There's no reason to be unsettled.
He doesn't know if this reaction could have been real. There never had been anyone like Midoriya or Kaworu for Paul to meet, to know as he knows them, to want to bring forward to his father's attention. Paul had always indifferently assumed that one day, the introductions would go the other way around: his father and mother would present him with the girl or woman he'd marry, and that would be that. They would have chosen well for him, and he would have been satisfied with their choice.
But that wasn't how his father and mother came to be together. This memory of his father is a memory that loved his mother to the point of foolishness. Paul would have trusted Leto to have understood, if he'd ever imagined anything like this, and so - he does.
That isn't why it aches. He knows it isn't. But if he pretends himself stuck on a philosophical contemplation, it's easier to bear.
"My father can be a very unserious man," Paul says, the presence of his heart in his throat a familiar one, "It's one of the darkest secrets of House Atreides."
"Ha!" Leto scoffs, softly. "Don't believe a word of it. I take my 'entertaining' very seriously." He flashes a smile brighter than his ring, with a light tinge of sympathy still playing at the corners of his eyes. "Forgive me. It's a father's right to embarrass his son, and Paul here gives me so few opportunities to do so. I have to take the chances I get."
A plain statement, but one full of fond pride. Paul ducks his head, feeling his cheek burn once more.