( lighter touches in a way harumasa associates with someone both intimately familiar with touch and also estranged from it. considering his experiences, that would track; but it's not quite so simple. nothing with people ever is. but to harumasa it's enough that he understands, that he doesn't make him say it all out loud since he's not sure he could, that when he moves forward to help him harumasa can feel the warmth of his hands that makes him shiver and the strength of them too, all interwoven with something as gentle as a flicker of light touching the backs of closed eyes. kindness? humanity?
fear?
words happen at a slower speed, drowned in harumasa's affliction in a way that makes it seem as if he is hearing him, even this close, from deep underwater. but he sees that moment, that look on lighter's face that somehow makes him seem incredibly soft looking to harumasa who, despite the near violent shaking of his hand, reaches up to slide a cold palm and fingers along lighter's jaw, then a bit up, thumb drawing a smooth line under one star-shorn eye.
he smiles and it's at odds with the physical collapse of his body, because it's the same smile he has when he's fine; because —
— he is fine.
another stroll through the gates of hell and back. because he wants to. everything is worth it; he had decided that a long time ago; because if everything isn't, then nothing is and someone who wants to live so badly can't afford to think otherwise. some people might not believe him if they knew the truth of his condition and harumasa knows that too. his brightness makes many things seem like lies.
funny though. he's never particularly felt disbelieved by present company.
it's too hard to keep his hand raised after all, so light fingers drag down the side of lighter's face, his jaw, his neck, try to anchor at his shoulder, and can't. a soft laugh. )
Ha...ah...mmm. Now...now's fine. Don't worry.
( whether 26 or 260, most of the time people die beyond their choosing. this makes asaba harumasa more similar to ordinary people than he ever imagined. is it growing up? is it discovering things about his master? is it the man holding him who slips into harumasa's failing lungs like leather worn sun or late night fire. he's freezing but somehow has stopped feeling it, almost dizzily warm in his head even as lighter will feel the faint tremors in his body persist.
i did try to warn you, he thinks drily, and then, most dangerously of all a thought gently buried: how it's nice to not be alone, even if no one else should have to deal with him like this. he'd rather take sick leave all over the place, be considered a flake and even a bad employee hired by favoritism, than expose people to this aspect of his reality, especially to this degree. which begs the question why did he cave tonight, already knowing he wasn't doing well?
he can use the excuse of lighter even asking, but of course that's not just it.
when harumasa was little, there was a time when he waited for someone to come back, a luxury one can only have if one has had someone there. ah. has he gotten so used to working with lighter, with running into him in the square, with...that...
hm.
fortunately or not, his own coughing derails his thoughts, but without thinking at all, the tension and release in harumasa's body like some broken bow, has him leaning in more. you're here, he thinks, though he's known it for nearly an hour now, having brought the man in himself. just a bigger stray. and it's enough of a fond feeling more than a thought that harumasa's pale lips smile again. )
no subject
fear?
words happen at a slower speed, drowned in harumasa's affliction in a way that makes it seem as if he is hearing him, even this close, from deep underwater. but he sees that moment, that look on lighter's face that somehow makes him seem incredibly soft looking to harumasa who, despite the near violent shaking of his hand, reaches up to slide a cold palm and fingers along lighter's jaw, then a bit up, thumb drawing a smooth line under one star-shorn eye.
he smiles and it's at odds with the physical collapse of his body, because it's the same smile he has when he's fine; because —
— he is fine.
another stroll through the gates of hell and back. because he wants to. everything is worth it; he had decided that a long time ago; because if everything isn't, then nothing is and someone who wants to live so badly can't afford to think otherwise. some people might not believe him if they knew the truth of his condition and harumasa knows that too. his brightness makes many things seem like lies.
funny though. he's never particularly felt disbelieved by present company.
it's too hard to keep his hand raised after all, so light fingers drag down the side of lighter's face, his jaw, his neck, try to anchor at his shoulder, and can't. a soft laugh. )
Ha...ah...mmm. Now...now's fine. Don't worry.
( whether 26 or 260, most of the time people die beyond their choosing. this makes asaba harumasa more similar to ordinary people than he ever imagined. is it growing up? is it discovering things about his master? is it the man holding him who slips into harumasa's failing lungs like leather worn sun or late night fire. he's freezing but somehow has stopped feeling it, almost dizzily warm in his head even as lighter will feel the faint tremors in his body persist.
i did try to warn you, he thinks drily, and then, most dangerously of all a thought gently buried: how it's nice to not be alone, even if no one else should have to deal with him like this. he'd rather take sick leave all over the place, be considered a flake and even a bad employee hired by favoritism, than expose people to this aspect of his reality, especially to this degree. which begs the question why did he cave tonight, already knowing he wasn't doing well?
he can use the excuse of lighter even asking, but of course that's not just it.
when harumasa was little, there was a time when he waited for someone to come back, a luxury one can only have if one has had someone there. ah. has he gotten so used to working with lighter, with running into him in the square, with...that...
hm.
fortunately or not, his own coughing derails his thoughts, but without thinking at all, the tension and release in harumasa's body like some broken bow, has him leaning in more. you're here, he thinks, though he's known it for nearly an hour now, having brought the man in himself. just a bigger stray. and it's enough of a fond feeling more than a thought that harumasa's pale lips smile again. )