[ But he does. He's known cold nights without shelter, known the gnaw of days-long hunger low in his stomach. Known how unbearable it is to go back once the need has finally been met. A floor to sleep on for one night only. A bowl of soup that resets hunger's timer. Now that he's known Lyney's warmth, been sated by his kiss, the thought of turning back--what they'll inevtitably have to do, he realizes, coming down from this high even as he claws to stay afloat within it--is intolerable. Now that Lyney's opened this door, he does have to do this. For himself. For his own heart beating out of control.
But he's not the only one in the picture.
Lyney is so many things he can't begin to put a pin in one and focus on it: an inmate. Quite a few years his junior. The next Knave. Unshakable in his loyalty to the Fatui. Someone else's lover. Due to be gone in just a matter of months. Lyney himself had said they might never see one another again. Would he prefer it that way?
This boy he's sworn to protect--does he even want protecting?
His grip at Lyney's hips relaxes, and now he finds he's not sure what to do with his hands. Not sure what to do with much of anything, really. He is, for the first time in years, in something like freefall. Old reflexes creak to life within him, past protections that once kept his heart safe when nothing else would. For a long time, he's silent. In one hand he touches Lyney's fingertips, barely feeling them at his own. ]
You worry too much. [ The words are faint in his ears, distant. ] ...If the guards catch you out past curfew again, they might not be so lenient.
no subject
But he's not the only one in the picture.
Lyney is so many things he can't begin to put a pin in one and focus on it: an inmate. Quite a few years his junior. The next Knave. Unshakable in his loyalty to the Fatui. Someone else's lover. Due to be gone in just a matter of months. Lyney himself had said they might never see one another again. Would he prefer it that way?
This boy he's sworn to protect--does he even want protecting?
His grip at Lyney's hips relaxes, and now he finds he's not sure what to do with his hands. Not sure what to do with much of anything, really. He is, for the first time in years, in something like freefall. Old reflexes creak to life within him, past protections that once kept his heart safe when nothing else would. For a long time, he's silent. In one hand he touches Lyney's fingertips, barely feeling them at his own. ]
You worry too much. [ The words are faint in his ears, distant. ] ...If the guards catch you out past curfew again, they might not be so lenient.