[ 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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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. ]
no subject
I'm cold.
no subject
What do you want me to do? [ It's a quiet question, feeling helpless and wondering if this really does mean nothing. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]