he... takes the hand. he's a little - not hesitant, but cautious. he can see the minefield and he's trying to not set it off. unsteadily, he lets therion help him up, and doesn't let go of his hand. he is a mess of a person at the moment, his hair tangled and his clothes ruffled. ]
You like when I cling. [ he grumbles, ears pinned back. he's sure of that much, at least. ] I... I'm - welcome h -- welcome back.
[ therion says, sarcastically, because he is the most helpful person on the entire planet. clearly he is not going to throw up again. (maybe.) but he does help jiaoqiu up, and then looks him over, from tip to tail. he's still holding his hand? embarrassing. it sends a flutter through him (even more embarrassing!!!) and therion lets go, though it's to fix his rumpled disaster of pajamas for him, straightening them out a little, looking for something else to do with his hands that doesn't remind him of yesterday.
this mostly fails but at least he can play it cool as he tugs on his clothes and tries to de-ruffle him a little ]
[ bold of you to think he got into pajamas before collapsing into bed, he's still wearing yesterday's clothes, so like. slacks and a cardigan.
he lets therion fix them though, even if he's feeling anxious about the hand hold, about yesterday, about - everything. he wants to go find his phone. he wants to make sure he actually said what he said. he's not going to throw up again, but he feels like... bad, absolutely disheveled in a way he isn't normally. his composure is absolutely shot. ]
... I should brush my teeth. [ he mumbles, ears pinned back. ]
[ unfortunately, as far as he can tell all of this is like general embarrassment and not specifically "i said the big l word" embarrassment. which is fine! that suits him great! if he can just focus on jiaoqiu embarrassing himself being a drunk mess and a hungover mess in the morning, then he can not think about the absolutely seismic shift his life has taken in the past twelve hours. he can pretend he didn't tell jiaoqiu he believed what he was saying. because he does. and that's so scary he doesn't want to confront it again, so, in typical therion fashion... he won't!
he picks at this cardigan for a second and then gives up, stepping back. maybe he should give him a minute. therion could also use a minute? he probably also needs one, or maybe he'll start thinking down that line of thinking again. god. there's a weird edge of something awkward here, unusually so, and he does the wise thing, shoving his hands in his pockets. ]
'm gonna go let Prim know you're dying.
[ and like, let her know that he's back, also. it gives him an excuse to skitter out, though he's as cool about it as ever, turning on his heel and giving a two fingered, lazy wave over his shoulder like things are normal. ]
[ he absolutely could use a minute, and he's not going to be in any shape to do work today, which - primrose probably knows, considering she watched boothill and jiaoqiu get wasted at two in the morning. still, it might be nice to just take a second to dunk his head and try to ease the hangover a bit on his own, so he lets therion go, watching him give that little lazy salute.
the second therion is out of the room, he just slumps back down to sit on the edge of the tub and puts his head in his hands. jesus christ. get yourself together. after a moment, he does manage to pull himself back up to go grab his phone.
... and when therion comes back, jiaoqiu isn't in the room! huh. the shower is freshly run and steamed up still, so he probably hasn't gone far. ]
therion's gone for a little while. ten minutes, fifteen. just long enough to swing downstairs and tell primrose, who looks at him a little curiously, and he knows, he knows that she can tell he came back early, but he cuts off any conversation about it before it can even start by being as gruff and brusque as possible. this doesn't stop her from giving him that knowing little smile as he's leaving, but, you know what. whatever.
he tarries a little longer than he needs to, downstairs, hemming and hawing a little before he finally makes his way back up the stairs. if he stops, long enough, he thinks about it. and he just cannot let himself do that? at all? or he will simply evaporate, so he doesn't! he shoves his face a little further into his scarf - the same one jiaoqiu bought him the day they first came to sunshade, that he wears pretty much always, nowadays, and returns to the room after giving himself a pep talk/scolding (mostly scolding) about this entire fucking thing and how absolutely awfully lame he is, and worse, how stupid this whole fucking thing is, and how stupid he probably is, but, whatever, by the time he gets in the room, he's cool as a cucumber. and...
... jiaoqiu's not here....
he frowns. he's not a tracker or anything like that, but he didn't pass jiaoqiu. he looks around the room. ]
...Doc? [ what the fuck
where did you go. is there any sign of anything... are his shoes still here... ]
no, his shoes are here! it doesn't look like anything has really moved much. and it's not going to be very difficult to find jiaoqiu because he is actually in the room, it's just hard to see him. there's a thud from the opposite side of the bed on the floor, and then quiet cursing. a beat. and jiaoqiu sits up, peering at therion from where he is on the floor. all that therion can see are his stupid pink ears and the upper half of his face. which is slightly red again.
he was just laying there, apparently. becoming one with the ground. sup. ]
[ he sat down and then he couldn't get back up because he's sick, and also because he read back his text messages and now he wants to die. is the window open. maybe he can throw himself out of it. ]
[ he is holding his phone very tightly in his hands. when therion comes over to him, he looks a bit apprehensive, but not in a way that he's like, scared of therion or anything, just.
he can't just let this go. he can't pretend like it didn't happen, because if therion is pretending like it didn't, maybe that means that he can't stand it, and it's freaking him out. there's always a part of him that whispers about how not worth it he is - he doesn't want that part to be proven correct. so. he just ignores the question, and asks his own. ]
... Did you read my messages that I sent you? [ he's piecing things together still, remembering bits and pieces of last night. ]
is so terrible, because he can't quite remember all of the conversation they had, so therion says yes, he read them, and nothing else, and jiaoqiu's ears pin down and back, his expression twitching like he's trying to hide some sort of hurt. like therion is letting him down easy, not trying to be cool about it.
he opens his mouth. and then closes it. and then: ]
[ we're right back at the miscommunication tango, though watching his ears pin back does help a little - he's too observant to miss the gesture even if he's not looking, and therion glances over, and then folds his arms across his chest, fingers curling in the sleeves of his hoodie at his biceps.
there's another pause. he shifts a little. this would be the chance to just - drop it, and the him of a year ago would have without a second thought, but, in a year's time, he's accidentally stepped on some land mines of his own, too. though, with jiaoqiu's, it's less like an explosion and more like quicksand. ]
[ quicksand is a good term for it. it's so easy to miss stepping in the wrong place, but it means he just sinks, slowly, over time, with no way out. he never bothers to even pull himself up, either. it just gets worse and worse until he's deadeyed and silent, but - this time.
this time, therion is a little better at reading him. jiaoqiu stares up at him, ears still back, and then: ]
What do you mean what? Are you sure that you read my message? [ a beat. ] That's... it's important to me.
[ and here is where he falters, because if it isn't to therion then he really is going to lay down in traffic. he can usually tell when therion cares, but he's hungover and terrified. ]
[ what does he mean, what does he mean. that's not really - he knows, why jiaoqiu's asking, and a little flush starts to build over his nose and his cheeks, staring at the wall ahead and absolutely not at jiaoqiu, because he can't. he feels that falter, and for a second, he's standing on the edge of a cliff face again, though this time, the cliff's climbing his own pride.
therion's silent, for a second, ducking into his scarf a little, and when he speaks his voice is rougher, slightly muffled and immediately more raw. instead of answering immediately, he meets it with another question, one as faltering as jiaoqiu's. ]
[ he's gotten pretty okay at reading therion over a year - the ducking into his scarf is a safety thing. he's embarrassed, and they're both navigating carefully, he thinks. but it doesn't mean therion is closed off, just flighty. fidgety. he can hold out a hand. he just needs therion to come to it. ]
Clearly not enough. [ he says, embarrassed, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. ] I... think that I remember you in my lap.
in a sense, it's - almost relieving? therion doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath, but he is. of course he doesn't remember. that's... good for him, he thinks, because he was so, so deeply vulnerable, because it was only the fact that he thought jiaoqiu wouldn't that he could even convince himself to admit to it, to open up the cracked oyster shell of his heart and let jiaoqiu put his hands on the pearl.
it occurs to him about a second after he feels this relief that it means he's going to have to find a way to - have this conversation again, which. oh god. he does duck a little further into his scarf, and the red spreads out to his cheeks - therion snorts, dryly, embarrassed, and keeps his gaze as fixed on the wall across from him as humanly possible. ]
Can't say I'm surprised. [ a beat. ] Yeah. [ yeah, that happened, he was half in his lap. he can admit to that, at least.
he knows he needs to say something, now, and that's the hard part. therion's silent for a moment longer, jaw working where it's hidden. he's staring at that held out hand and deciding how to approach it, bit by bit. ]
... it's. [ ... ] We talked about it. [ sort of. ]
[ it's coming to him in little bits - sense memory, of holding therion, of asking him... something. something about belief. he doesn't remember how they got there, or the lead up so much, but. that's something. he isn't sure he remembers the answer. he isn't sure he didn't make the answer up, because that was so dangerously close to him passing out.
jiaoqiu doesn't need therion to look at him during this conversation, it's okay. it's not a slight against him, and he knows it. therion doesn't look at him because it's hard to coax this sort of vulnerability out of him. it makes sense - he knows the damage that was done, he knows that it's so, so difficult for therion to be emotionally open, jiaoqiu understands that. he can barely manage to look up, himself. but - he thinks, for both of their sakes, that therion needs to try. jiaoqiu can fill in so many blanks, but eventually he's going to start feeling like he's putting the puzzle together by himself, and his self esteem isn't good enough for that. he'll give up, afraid to put too much of a burden in therion's hands.
god, it's so stupid. if he could just remember what they talked about. he didn't want to have that conversation blackout drunk.
he just stares down at his phone, and sits in that silence. the longer it goes, the less good he feels, the less brave, and his grip tightens on the plastic in his hands, claws clicking against the glass.
but therion answers. and it makes him feel a little less small.
a beat. ]
I asked if you believed me. [ he says quietly, to his phone. ] I remember that.
it's the same feeling from last night - his heart is in his throat, suddenly, pulse picking up under his skin, a jitter moving through his entire system like fight or flight. the urge to push back and move on is his first intention, his first reach, but he's started to unlearn that, bit by tiny bit. his trust has started to solidify, spiderwebbed with cracks but not quite breaking, despite everything in him that has screamed at him to smash the ice more than once, and he's been rewarded for it.
he's learned not to bite the hand that feeds him so viciously. he's learned to allow it, feral little beast, and to lean into it, and he's learned that that hand won't always come to him. he has to make his way there. patience is rewarded with response, it just always takes time.
the room is still and silent, and despite that under the skin feeling of anxious fear, therion's still, too. he looks up, now, over his head, at nothing. ]
... Don't remember what I said, huh.
[ it's not angry, or upset - just sort of stating what he's pretty sure he knows already. it's not like therion actually said it, but jiaoqiu doesn't know that. ]
[ patience is rewarded - he's good at patience. he's good at waiting, it's all he's done for years, waiting for something to happen. therion has gotten better at finding his way closer, if jiaoqiu just sits back and stays still.
don't remember, huh, therion says, and jiaoqiu sucks in a breath. and exhales. slow. he's good at waiting, and he's good at seeing the worst possible scenario and accepting that it's the truth, whether it is or not.
he doesn't look up, but: ]
No. I don't remember. [ ... ] If you don't feel the same, please just say so. We can move on. I've embarrassed myself enough.
[ he brings a hand up to massage at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with his thumb and pointer finger like he's trying to get rid of a headache. he knows therion cares. he knows he does, he sees it, he does, he'd have to be stupid to not understand that therion cares about him. but care isn't necessarily love, and it isn't necessarily romantic love. it's all too easy to convince himself that the romantic feelings he's had these past few weeks aren't reciprocated - he's not special.
it's not therion's fault, it's just the quicksand, racing to swallow him up. ]
[ the last syllable of enough barely has time to escape out of jiaoqiu's mouth before therion says it. immediate, dropping an iron wall on that sentence before it goes even farther - he whips his head to look at him, expression somewhere between incredulous and surprised, even if it really shouldn't be. he's never verbally said anything like it, but -
for someone like therion, what he's done has to speak volumes. jiaoqiu doesn't know that he dropped everything last night to be here when he sent him that message, sure, but he's turned his entire life into something different around jiaoqiu's presence in his life. he's learned to soften around the edges. before he left, their first night in sunshade still lives in his head in shades and flashes when he least expects it, the feeling of jiaoqiu's hand slipped into his burnt like a brand into the desperate part of him that he'd never admit craves it, that he swears if his mind wanders too far, he can still feel.
but it's not enough, is it? he pushes off from where he's standing, the motion abrupt, and squats down next to him on the ground, and sheer instinct - he grabs the hand on his face and pulls it away, grabs his stupid face with his other hand and turns it towards him, eye to eye, face to face - and faltering, because when he does, he's faced less with impulse and instead with his own thoughts, with the need to follow through - a precipice.
either way, they're eye to eye, and therion's nearly vibrating as he lets his temper take over for him. angry, he's so often angry, but it's never violent, not towards jiaoqiu, never once. even now, the hand that grabs onto his, the one on his face - neither squeezes too hard or pushes too much, no matter how intense of a moment passes, how intense therion himself is. ]
Stop, whatever the hell you're thinking, just - stop. Are you nuts?
[ he startles slightly, when therion grabs his face - but it isn't a violent movement, and it's not like that first time, months ago. it's a little intense, but it's never something that's going to hurt him, and the trust inherent in letting therion just kind of manhandle him around without complaint is clear.
he blinks, gold eyes wide open, not squinting for once. stares at therion. he lets therion snap at him, and his heart cracks and clenches in his chest, and he wants - he doesn't know what he wants. he doesn't know what to expect. this is such new territory, he's never said this to someone before. not even feixiao or moze. it was always unspoken, something he didn't dare offer, and something that would not have gone over well with either of them, he thinks.
so, this is new. and unintentional, because it took getting blasted for him to be able to say it at all.
a beat. ]
Well. Yes. A little, I think we've established that much. [ it is Not The Time to make jokes, but he does anyway, slightly wry. there's something wrong with you, therion had said the first time they met. it's still true, even if it's gotten better.
still. he doesn't look away or try to squirm. he just looks at therion, and waits. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
he... takes the hand. he's a little - not hesitant, but cautious. he can see the minefield and he's trying to not set it off. unsteadily, he lets therion help him up, and doesn't let go of his hand. he is a mess of a person at the moment, his hair tangled and his clothes ruffled. ]
You like when I cling. [ he grumbles, ears pinned back. he's sure of that much, at least. ] I... I'm - welcome h -- welcome back.
[ good job great you're doing SO good at this ]
no subject
[ therion says, sarcastically, because he is the most helpful person on the entire planet. clearly he is not going to throw up again. (maybe.) but he does help jiaoqiu up, and then looks him over, from tip to tail. he's still holding his hand? embarrassing. it sends a flutter through him (even more embarrassing!!!) and therion lets go, though it's to fix his rumpled disaster of pajamas for him, straightening them out a little, looking for something else to do with his hands that doesn't remind him of yesterday.
this mostly fails but at least he can play it cool as he tugs on his clothes and tries to de-ruffle him a little ]
no subject
he lets therion fix them though, even if he's feeling anxious about the hand hold, about yesterday, about - everything. he wants to go find his phone. he wants to make sure he actually said what he said. he's not going to throw up again, but he feels like... bad, absolutely disheveled in a way he isn't normally. his composure is absolutely shot. ]
... I should brush my teeth. [ he mumbles, ears pinned back. ]
no subject
[ unfortunately, as far as he can tell all of this is like general embarrassment and not specifically "i said the big l word" embarrassment. which is fine! that suits him great! if he can just focus on jiaoqiu embarrassing himself being a drunk mess and a hungover mess in the morning, then he can not think about the absolutely seismic shift his life has taken in the past twelve hours. he can pretend he didn't tell jiaoqiu he believed what he was saying. because he does. and that's so scary he doesn't want to confront it again, so, in typical therion fashion... he won't!
he picks at this cardigan for a second and then gives up, stepping back. maybe he should give him a minute. therion could also use a minute? he probably also needs one, or maybe he'll start thinking down that line of thinking again. god. there's a weird edge of something awkward here, unusually so, and he does the wise thing, shoving his hands in his pockets. ]
'm gonna go let Prim know you're dying.
[ and like, let her know that he's back, also. it gives him an excuse to skitter out, though he's as cool about it as ever, turning on his heel and giving a two fingered, lazy wave over his shoulder like things are normal. ]
no subject
[ he absolutely could use a minute, and he's not going to be in any shape to do work today, which - primrose probably knows, considering she watched boothill and jiaoqiu get wasted at two in the morning. still, it might be nice to just take a second to dunk his head and try to ease the hangover a bit on his own, so he lets therion go, watching him give that little lazy salute.
the second therion is out of the room, he just slumps back down to sit on the edge of the tub and puts his head in his hands. jesus christ. get yourself together. after a moment, he does manage to pull himself back up to go grab his phone.
... and when therion comes back, jiaoqiu isn't in the room! huh. the shower is freshly run and steamed up still, so he probably hasn't gone far. ]
no subject
therion's gone for a little while. ten minutes, fifteen. just long enough to swing downstairs and tell primrose, who looks at him a little curiously, and he knows, he knows that she can tell he came back early, but he cuts off any conversation about it before it can even start by being as gruff and brusque as possible. this doesn't stop her from giving him that knowing little smile as he's leaving, but, you know what. whatever.
he tarries a little longer than he needs to, downstairs, hemming and hawing a little before he finally makes his way back up the stairs. if he stops, long enough, he thinks about it. and he just cannot let himself do that? at all? or he will simply evaporate, so he doesn't! he shoves his face a little further into his scarf - the same one jiaoqiu bought him the day they first came to sunshade, that he wears pretty much always, nowadays, and returns to the room after giving himself a pep talk/scolding (mostly scolding) about this entire fucking thing and how absolutely awfully lame he is, and worse, how stupid this whole fucking thing is, and how stupid he probably is, but, whatever, by the time he gets in the room, he's cool as a cucumber. and...
... jiaoqiu's not here....
he frowns. he's not a tracker or anything like that, but he didn't pass jiaoqiu. he looks around the room. ]
...Doc? [ what the fuck
where did you go. is there any sign of anything... are his shoes still here... ]
no subject
no, his shoes are here! it doesn't look like anything has really moved much. and it's not going to be very difficult to find jiaoqiu because he is actually in the room, it's just hard to see him. there's a thud from the opposite side of the bed on the floor, and then quiet cursing. a beat. and jiaoqiu sits up, peering at therion from where he is on the floor. all that therion can see are his stupid pink ears and the upper half of his face. which is slightly red again.
he was just laying there, apparently. becoming one with the ground. sup. ]
no subject
god. help. he looks at him with the most unimpressed face you could possibly imagine. hello. ]
What the hell are you doing.
[ why are you becoming one with the floor ]
no subject
a pause. ]
... My phone was down here.
[ he sat down and then he couldn't get back up because he's sick, and also because he read back his text messages and now he wants to die. is the window open. maybe he can throw himself out of it. ]
no subject
[ jiaoqiu................alas the window is not open because therion is a paranoid freak ]
no subject
I took a shower. [ he protests!! ]
no subject
[ could two syllables sound any more judgy.... probably not....
he comes over to look at him though, hands on his hips. ] Regretting those... what, four glasses of Asdana Oak, yet?
no subject
he can't just let this go. he can't pretend like it didn't happen, because if therion is pretending like it didn't, maybe that means that he can't stand it, and it's freaking him out. there's always a part of him that whispers about how not worth it he is - he doesn't want that part to be proven correct. so. he just ignores the question, and asks his own. ]
... Did you read my messages that I sent you? [ he's piecing things together still, remembering bits and pieces of last night. ]
no subject
a pause. he looks at him for a second, and then looks away with a huff, feeling a flush start to crawl up the back of his neck. ]
Yeah.
[ yeah. so casual. so cool. is that all you're gonna say therion?? helpful ]
no subject
is so terrible, because he can't quite remember all of the conversation they had, so therion says yes, he read them, and nothing else, and jiaoqiu's ears pin down and back, his expression twitching like he's trying to hide some sort of hurt. like therion is letting him down easy, not trying to be cool about it.
he opens his mouth. and then closes it. and then: ]
... Ah. Then, I... [ he starts. pauses. ] Yes, alright.
no subject
there's another pause. he shifts a little. this would be the chance to just - drop it, and the him of a year ago would have without a second thought, but, in a year's time, he's accidentally stepped on some land mines of his own, too. though, with jiaoqiu's, it's less like an explosion and more like quicksand. ]
... what?
no subject
this time, therion is a little better at reading him. jiaoqiu stares up at him, ears still back, and then: ]
What do you mean what? Are you sure that you read my message? [ a beat. ] That's... it's important to me.
[ and here is where he falters, because if it isn't to therion then he really is going to lay down in traffic. he can usually tell when therion cares, but he's hungover and terrified. ]
no subject
therion's silent, for a second, ducking into his scarf a little, and when he speaks his voice is rougher, slightly muffled and immediately more raw. instead of answering immediately, he meets it with another question, one as faltering as jiaoqiu's. ]
... Do you remember anything from last night?
no subject
Clearly not enough. [ he says, embarrassed, bringing a hand up to rub at his face. ] I... think that I remember you in my lap.
no subject
in a sense, it's - almost relieving? therion doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath, but he is. of course he doesn't remember. that's... good for him, he thinks, because he was so, so deeply vulnerable, because it was only the fact that he thought jiaoqiu wouldn't that he could even convince himself to admit to it, to open up the cracked oyster shell of his heart and let jiaoqiu put his hands on the pearl.
it occurs to him about a second after he feels this relief that it means he's going to have to find a way to - have this conversation again, which. oh god. he does duck a little further into his scarf, and the red spreads out to his cheeks - therion snorts, dryly, embarrassed, and keeps his gaze as fixed on the wall across from him as humanly possible. ]
Can't say I'm surprised. [ a beat. ] Yeah. [ yeah, that happened, he was half in his lap. he can admit to that, at least.
he knows he needs to say something, now, and that's the hard part. therion's silent for a moment longer, jaw working where it's hidden. he's staring at that held out hand and deciding how to approach it, bit by bit. ]
... it's. [ ... ] We talked about it. [ sort of. ]
no subject
jiaoqiu doesn't need therion to look at him during this conversation, it's okay. it's not a slight against him, and he knows it. therion doesn't look at him because it's hard to coax this sort of vulnerability out of him. it makes sense - he knows the damage that was done, he knows that it's so, so difficult for therion to be emotionally open, jiaoqiu understands that. he can barely manage to look up, himself. but - he thinks, for both of their sakes, that therion needs to try. jiaoqiu can fill in so many blanks, but eventually he's going to start feeling like he's putting the puzzle together by himself, and his self esteem isn't good enough for that. he'll give up, afraid to put too much of a burden in therion's hands.
god, it's so stupid. if he could just remember what they talked about. he didn't want to have that conversation blackout drunk.
he just stares down at his phone, and sits in that silence. the longer it goes, the less good he feels, the less brave, and his grip tightens on the plastic in his hands, claws clicking against the glass.
but therion answers. and it makes him feel a little less small.
a beat. ]
I asked if you believed me. [ he says quietly, to his phone. ] I remember that.
no subject
it's the same feeling from last night - his heart is in his throat, suddenly, pulse picking up under his skin, a jitter moving through his entire system like fight or flight. the urge to push back and move on is his first intention, his first reach, but he's started to unlearn that, bit by tiny bit. his trust has started to solidify, spiderwebbed with cracks but not quite breaking, despite everything in him that has screamed at him to smash the ice more than once, and he's been rewarded for it.
he's learned not to bite the hand that feeds him so viciously. he's learned to allow it, feral little beast, and to lean into it, and he's learned that that hand won't always come to him. he has to make his way there. patience is rewarded with response, it just always takes time.
the room is still and silent, and despite that under the skin feeling of anxious fear, therion's still, too. he looks up, now, over his head, at nothing. ]
... Don't remember what I said, huh.
[ it's not angry, or upset - just sort of stating what he's pretty sure he knows already. it's not like therion actually said it, but jiaoqiu doesn't know that. ]
no subject
don't remember, huh, therion says, and jiaoqiu sucks in a breath. and exhales. slow. he's good at waiting, and he's good at seeing the worst possible scenario and accepting that it's the truth, whether it is or not.
he doesn't look up, but: ]
No. I don't remember. [ ... ] If you don't feel the same, please just say so. We can move on. I've embarrassed myself enough.
[ he brings a hand up to massage at the bridge of his nose, pinching it with his thumb and pointer finger like he's trying to get rid of a headache. he knows therion cares. he knows he does, he sees it, he does, he'd have to be stupid to not understand that therion cares about him. but care isn't necessarily love, and it isn't necessarily romantic love. it's all too easy to convince himself that the romantic feelings he's had these past few weeks aren't reciprocated - he's not special.
it's not therion's fault, it's just the quicksand, racing to swallow him up. ]
no subject
[ the last syllable of enough barely has time to escape out of jiaoqiu's mouth before therion says it. immediate, dropping an iron wall on that sentence before it goes even farther - he whips his head to look at him, expression somewhere between incredulous and surprised, even if it really shouldn't be. he's never verbally said anything like it, but -
for someone like therion, what he's done has to speak volumes. jiaoqiu doesn't know that he dropped everything last night to be here when he sent him that message, sure, but he's turned his entire life into something different around jiaoqiu's presence in his life. he's learned to soften around the edges. before he left, their first night in sunshade still lives in his head in shades and flashes when he least expects it, the feeling of jiaoqiu's hand slipped into his burnt like a brand into the desperate part of him that he'd never admit craves it, that he swears if his mind wanders too far, he can still feel.
but it's not enough, is it? he pushes off from where he's standing, the motion abrupt, and squats down next to him on the ground, and sheer instinct - he grabs the hand on his face and pulls it away, grabs his stupid face with his other hand and turns it towards him, eye to eye, face to face - and faltering, because when he does, he's faced less with impulse and instead with his own thoughts, with the need to follow through - a precipice.
either way, they're eye to eye, and therion's nearly vibrating as he lets his temper take over for him. angry, he's so often angry, but it's never violent, not towards jiaoqiu, never once. even now, the hand that grabs onto his, the one on his face - neither squeezes too hard or pushes too much, no matter how intense of a moment passes, how intense therion himself is. ]
Stop, whatever the hell you're thinking, just - stop. Are you nuts?
no subject
he blinks, gold eyes wide open, not squinting for once. stares at therion. he lets therion snap at him, and his heart cracks and clenches in his chest, and he wants - he doesn't know what he wants. he doesn't know what to expect. this is such new territory, he's never said this to someone before. not even feixiao or moze. it was always unspoken, something he didn't dare offer, and something that would not have gone over well with either of them, he thinks.
so, this is new. and unintentional, because it took getting blasted for him to be able to say it at all.
a beat. ]
Well. Yes. A little, I think we've established that much. [ it is Not The Time to make jokes, but he does anyway, slightly wry. there's something wrong with you, therion had said the first time they met. it's still true, even if it's gotten better.
still. he doesn't look away or try to squirm. he just looks at therion, and waits. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)