[ Silently, Carver cups a hand to the back of Larus’s head. Just holding him there, slowing his breathing down. He’s gentle about it, or as gentle as he knows how to be. There are parts of this he doesn’t understand, maybe can’t understand, but this thing between them —
It’s real. It matters. Doesn’t it?
He runs his fingers through Larus’s hair with a sigh. ]
I’m asking you not to. It’s not like he beats me for the fun of it.
[ It matters, and that's why Larus hasn't pulled away from it entirely. He would bleed for Carver if it came down to it, but asking all of this from him is almost too much, squeezing his eyes shut tighter against the careful drag of Carver's fingers through his hair.
Placating him? He can't tell anymore. ]
I can't. [ He struggles to find the words. ] I can't make that promise.
[ You're weak, he hears Sun say, then. An echo in the back of his mind. I could make you so much better than this. Larus shudders. ]
Even if I tried, it might not matter. Maybe he'd kill me instead.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It’s real. It matters. Doesn’t it?
He runs his fingers through Larus’s hair with a sigh. ]
I’m asking you not to. It’s not like he beats me for the fun of it.
no subject
Placating him? He can't tell anymore. ]
I can't. [ He struggles to find the words. ] I can't make that promise.
[ You're weak, he hears Sun say, then. An echo in the back of his mind. I could make you so much better than this. Larus shudders. ]
Even if I tried, it might not matter. Maybe he'd kill me instead.
no subject
I don’t want you to die.