i could render you unconscious so that you will sleep through the night.
[ Because that's such a great idea. He's back in under twenty minutes, only taking his shoes off before shuffling to the bedroom and flopping down fully clothed. ] I have no intention of leaving here for several days.
[ Larus is just exiting the bathroom, hair a little damp and wiping at his mouth when Casimir flings himself onto the bed almost dramatically. He stands there for a moment, uncertain, but eventually, he crosses the space and climbs into bed with him, nudging him with an elbow. ] You don't need to render me anything, and you can't stay in bed for days. [ Even though he's done it himself quite a few times. Larus leans over to rest his cheek against his shoulder. ]
You smell like smoke. [ It's said in a huff of breath that stirs his hair. ]
[ He stares at the ceiling, only letting his eyes drift shut when he feels the softness of Larus' cheek at his shoulder. The marvel of his touch still hasn't faded. ] I can. I will not die.
I will remove my clothes. [ And yet he makes no attempt to move. ] I feel very heavy.
[ His hand finds its way to Casimir's hair, fingertips light over its softness. ]
You're being ridiculous. [ He doesn't know how many times he's told him this over the course of the last few days, but it remains true every time. With a final touch, he sits up. ] Let me help you. Do you want a bath? [ Even that seems like too much effort, and yet, Larus is willing to give it, pulling at his jacket in an attempt to get Casimir to move so he can undress him. ]
[ He huffs out a breath, turning stubbornly onto his side, facing the window, and yanks at the covers until he's able to pull them up to his chin. ] I do not want this. [ Help. Or a bath. He wants to eat chocolate chips in bed until he falls asleep. ]
[ Some part of him wants to leave Casimir to pout under the covers, but Larus is stubborn too, following after him so he can curl up behind him and drape an arm over his waist. To Larus, Casimir feels anything but cold, and yet, he does whatever he can to warm him. ]
What do you want me to do? [ It's a quiet question, feeling helpless and wondering if this really does mean nothing. ]
[ The problem is that this all means too much to him despite his cautions against living in the past. He feels trapped in it already, stuck in an endless cycle of searching for the things he's lost. He doesn't want to leave, and yet he wonders if he will do more damage to Larus if he stays.
He closes his eyes again, Larus' warmth filling something inside of him. This is how gods fall, letting the years pass around them but not truly moving on at all. ] I like the way you are holding me now.
[ Something feels as if it wells up in his chest at that moment, the tension constricting around his heart the longer they rest against each other, and Larus doesn't move for an entire minute, doesn't breathe. Instead, he's reminded of an inkling of a dream he'd had so long ago that he's surprised it surfaces so suddenly, of two bodies intertwined in the dark, and he presses closer, forehead resting against the curve of Casimir's shoulder. ]
I won't let you go. [ It seems familiar, right, good. Even his anxiety settles, and he hooks his fingers around him, holding him tight. ]
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when you come back, let's talk about something else for once. something nice.
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anything that you wish.
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[ Anything to stop thinking about Casimir and his forest fire. ]
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[ Because that's such a great idea. He's back in under twenty minutes, only taking his shoes off before shuffling to the bedroom and flopping down fully clothed. ] I have no intention of leaving here for several days.
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You smell like smoke. [ It's said in a huff of breath that stirs his hair. ]
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I will remove my clothes. [ And yet he makes no attempt to move. ] I feel very heavy.
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You're being ridiculous. [ He doesn't know how many times he's told him this over the course of the last few days, but it remains true every time. With a final touch, he sits up. ] Let me help you. Do you want a bath? [ Even that seems like too much effort, and yet, Larus is willing to give it, pulling at his jacket in an attempt to get Casimir to move so he can undress him. ]
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I'm cold.
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What do you want me to do? [ It's a quiet question, feeling helpless and wondering if this really does mean nothing. ]
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He closes his eyes again, Larus' warmth filling something inside of him. This is how gods fall, letting the years pass around them but not truly moving on at all. ] I like the way you are holding me now.
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I won't let you go. [ It seems familiar, right, good. Even his anxiety settles, and he hooks his fingers around him, holding him tight. ]