[ Finally, a breath of slight relief that he understood it maybe a little. He lets their hands drop back down even if he doesn't let go, letting his fingers stay hooked around Shouto's as he settles back against the wall a little.
He looks at him gently but also a little somberly. More tired than relieved, honestly. ]
He's staring now, not the benign look he usually prescribed to him out of thoughtless curiosity but one transcribed by a hint of wariness. This time when another frown pulls at his mouth it's self-absorbed and directed at himself. ]
No. [ At no point has Shouto ever tried to hide anything from him, it doesn't seem in his character. To the point where even Allen feels guilty keeping some benign white lie to himself. It's not that; he never thought it was and likely never will.
He reaches for him, and figuring Shouto might resist that right now just touches the side of his face gently. His head tipping to the side as his eyes hood thoughtfully, and his voice drops a little and becomes softer. ]
But I thought you were being too hard on yourself and trying to handle it on your own.
[ The moment Allen reaches for him, Shouto jerks almost instinctively before stopping himself mid-movement resisting the urge to pull away at the touch of his cheek when runs counterintuitive to what he wants.
Don't be kind to me when you're sad. ]
I'm not doing anything different than I have from the start.
[ If anything, he spoke more to him than he ever had in the past. That's where the disconnect comes from, why he can't understand his concern.
[ That flinch hurts and Allen bites the inside of his lip for a moment, but stays where he is. Hesitating, before he slowly lets his palm contour gently to Shouto's cheek with a loving kind of tenderness when he doesn't pull fully away. ]
I know. And that's okay.
[ He sits up a little more, still speaking softly. ]
I think I just misunderstood what you meant by it. I'm sorry. [ You never had to change-- ]
I just wanted you to know it doesn't have to be something that's only on your shoulders anymore.
[ He gently turns his chin to the side, ignoring the way his fingers slide off his cheek. This time, he wouldn't accept his kindness while he tried to apologize for voicing his concern. ]
I don't think it is okay.
[ Locking eyes with him, Shouto finds comfort in the knowledge that he was setting them back on equal footing, steeling himself from his own need to pull him into his arms. ]
Tell me, what it is you want exactly. Not 'something' or 'someone'. Or other vague terms that don't mean anything to me.
[ He reaches across the aisle to set his hands over his. ]
[ Allen blinks at that actually, startled not that he turns his head away (that stings), or even at being refuted-- but that question. Not because it's phrased so bluntly, that's just who Shouto is, but--
He falters a little, this time being the one leaning back slightly and looking confused. Hesitant. ]
I just said...
[ Did he... not believe him? Because how could he be more precise than how he just was? ]
[ The moment Allen pulls back, looking confused, Shouto too stops midway through the gesture. There's a moment of silence before he retracts, setting his arm down next to him and focusing on the fabric of the bedding instead. ]
[ That answer comes more immediately and in a soft tone. And he leans in a little to look at him with a gentle but earnest expression, his eyes so very solemn, even if he doesn't move to touch him this time.
Silly. He said just said, didn't he? ]
That I just want you to know it doesn't have to all be on your shoulders.
[ It's the thing Midoriya taught him on the very first battlefield he used his fire offensively for the first time. He sighs to himself, straightening his back as he comes to a few realizations. ]
But I'm not showing you that or else you wouldn't think I needed to hear it.
[ Do you actually though? Not even five minutes ago you basically said you didn't know how you even would go about doing this with someone, but he holds his tongue. Even if you!!! are so!!! frustrating sometimes!!! But it isn't the time or place, and he's too emotionally drained and stung when it's something that obviously just keeps bruising Shouto's heart anyway.
And regardless, the one he's actually frustrated with is himself.
Miserably, Allen pulls his knees up and crosses his arms around them so he can bury his face into them and wish for Tim to hug. Aaahhh, he hates this. ]
Please just forget I said anything. I've messed up enough. [ It's slightly muffled. ]
[ Waiting to know the true extent of his feelings to better navigate a relationship is different from not opening up to someone about them. At least it is to him, who needs to know himself before giving voice to what's inside. He did so anyway, despite not knowing the proper words for them because Allen asked him to. He knew he wasn't good at explaining himself when he didn't know himself, and his attempt at it ended in this.
He's not like Allen who knows how to express himself. Who has a knack for discovering how others feel and knowing how to comfort them. Shouto will never be that person. The one who can describe his feelings in any coherent way while they're still tangled up inside him when he kept them at bay for so long.
He watches Allen pull into himself. Remembers the way he pulled back. The look he gave him when he tried to touch his hand and slips out of the nook to pick up a nearby blanket. ]
I won't forget about it.
[ He drapes it over his shoulder. ]
Next time, I'll stick to things I know how to explain better.
[ He didn't pull back, he leaned back very slightly in surprise; there's a huge difference. Feeling the thin mattress shift though, he hugs his knees a bit tighter in frustration. The blanket being dropped onto his shoulder makes him blink and look up at Shouto though, a little surprised. Trying to catch his expression, to try and read anything into it, but his words--
He goes a little still at the pit that leaves in his stomach, even if he blinks a quickly again a second time and swallows to keep his composure in the microsecond before his expression would otherwise drop. Then you didn't really hear him at all, otherwise that's an incredibly cruel thing to say. But he doesn't say that, just reigns it in and looks up at him with a neutral, gentle expression and quiet eyes so pale and clear they're almost moon-white. That flicker and take in the hand near his face, his form, his posture, before settling finally on his mismatched eyes.
I want to reach out and hold you so bad-- I want you to hold me right now so bad, but...
He just reaches up to hook a single finger around Shouto's in a quiet, so very delicate manner. Easy to brush off. ]
[ A monotone expression is all he'll glimpse. Carefully neutral as he sets the blanket over his shoulder. His way of avoiding further escalation. Keeping the peace from where it had spiraled into this. He doesn't avoid eye contact, keeping his gaze if he deems to hold it. There too, he'll find a set of neutral eyes, perfectly tailored by someone who learned to discard his feelings at an early age. ]
Allen. [ He keeps the delicate hold, even as he looks at him with a hint of worry. ] The only one who's sad is you.
[ And I don't know why. Only that I'm the cause of it. ]
[ What you're doing to yourself is sad too, but he doesn't say that either. Just meets his gaze quietly while he tries to search for something, but finds nothing. But you're still distressed, aren't you, you just aren't showing it. Expressions can turn off like that but emotions can't; they can only be buried. Something Allen is all too personally familiar with, even if he has done it in an entirely different manner; burying pain behind a smile.
Should he bury those feelings again if this is what they cause? No... he swore he wouldn't, at least not with Shouto; couldn't live with himself if he did. So he just lets his eyes close then, and pulls on that connection very gently to press his temple lightly against the side of Shouto's hand like someone taking solace in even such a small and simple thing.
[ He cuts himself off, sucking in a breath, and going very still. Ignoring the urge to recoil. To throw his hands around him. ]
--What are you doing?
[ There's urgency in his tone. Tension in the hand he holds so still. It breaks his neutral stance replacing it with an anxious look full of doubt that has him dragging his hand out of his grasp to set on either side of his shoulder to better hold him up. ]
[ Well that catches him entirely off-guard and makes Allen's expression just drop entirely in surprise, almost comically so. He blinks, sitting up straighter immediately. ]
Shouto... [ He begins but then falters, blinking again a few more times as he's momentarily tongue-tied. The sudden swing in emotion, and asking him what he's doing?
[ To the point where he's entirely blindsided when tears suddenly well in his own eyes, and that overflow before he's caught them. ]
Ah... damn. [ The rare out-loud swear, said softly under his breath as he reaches to swipe at his eyes. Like he's trying to scatter the tears before Shouto can see them. ]
I just wanted you to be happy too, but then I said something that made mess of that for no good reason. [ Usually he's so good at that too. Not upsetting other people as best he can, making them feel at ease. Knowing what to not say as much as what to say. But then... he does that by burying himself and putting on whatever face the situation demands. Being disingenuous with his feelings to be as genuine as possible in his caring. Something he's trying really hard not to do. ]
To the point where you feel you have to stay so far away... that I can't feel you anymore.
[ Except right now, looking at him with such naked worry. And it makes him scrub again at the tears with the heels of his palms in a renewed effort to try and make them stop. Hard, mad at himself even if his voice is still soft with anguish. But they keep coming. ]
[ Don't treat him like that. Don't use that kind of gesture with him. People tripping over themselves to get to know the son of the #2. Meaningless compliments. People grabbing at him. Smiles directed at him for no reason other than the shadow of his father's legacy. Even knowing that's not the reason behind it, it disturbs him on such a fundamental level he can't stand to see it directed at him, especially not from Allen. ]
Don't do that.
[ It's not an ask. Not said in a kind or gentle tone. But the tears that come in response manage to pull him out of that cold facade before it fully settles into his features. The pendulum swings in the opposite direction so quickly, he feels out of breath. The cursing doesn't even register only the tears. His words drag him from that awful place of his childhood and he's back in Trench. Back with him, and despite the crushing bleakness in his gut he manages to get a hold of the gears working that pendulum to shut it down by force.
[ In the wrong? Maybe neither of them are. It's that or both of them are. Because he doesn't see Shouto as such, even if he is frustrated. But it isn't fair that Allen let his own emotions blindside him to this kind of degree, not when they're something that will only distress someone he cares about. He's never been that kind of person. Swore he wouldn't. It's selfish. And it's why they're the only kind of tears he tries to scatter and smother so quickly, not out of some deadheaded reason like "boys don't cry" but because I don't want to cause you any more distress.
It's why people observant of him have always called him lonely even when he smiles in the middle of a crowd. And an idiot.
He forces himself to suck in a wet breath. Shouto's voice, not so distant and standoffish, helping to anchor him this time. The chastisement isn't an unfamiliar one. ]
Heh... [ It's humorless. A small, wry little sound. Still crying, but it's easing up. His shoulders becoming looser, and he scrubs at his cheek that's still wet. Looks up with a wincing sort of smile that's tacked together. ]
That's telling someone "you're wrong" a lot for saying they're not wrong.
[ He says it softly. Not in a contrary sort of way, but emotionally tired. ]
[ His distress comes from the stark awareness of his failure to understand him. Made worse by the wry smile fighting its way through brimming tears. It leaves him feeling utterly useless. Unable to comprehend how they got to this brink. With Allen in tears and Shouto paralyzed by them. It feels like they're stuck in the upside-down where one thing means another.
Why... are you smiling?
He doesn't understand. Doesn't have the capacity to at this point in his life. Unable to comprehend even that simple line that leaves him speechless, driving in the point that he was still far behind in knowing people. ]
....
[ Little by little he closes down. Keeping a tight hold of himself. He doesn't argue with that observation. Doesn't know where he would even start when it was in complete opposition to his intentions. ]
That's not what I meant.
[ His tone is absent of any inflection. Quiet. A hint of defeat curbing his words, not wanting to fight and do more harm. He stares at the bedding in a concentrated manner, dread filling his heart in a way he hasn't felt since he was still under double digits. Back then, he'd driven away his most beloved person, now... ]
[ Allen breathes out in the pause, long and a little shaky as he finally finds his center again. Wipes the last of the tears from his eyes and this time they stay dry. It's... so much harder than he would have thought. Trying to walk the tightrope of being more honest and open with his feelings and both not being blindsided by them, but... also not bruising someone else with them.
It's so hard. But he shakes his head lightly. ]
No, I don't. [ Even if his voice is still soft and a little lower from crying, it's immediate and certain. That's the opposite of anything he'd want. His eyes snag for a moment on Shouto's hands, starting to reach towards them before he halts himself. Fingers curling lightly into his palm. ]
And I know you didn't. [ Said more softly. ] I know you might want to back away too, but...
[ Allen looks up finally to try and meet his eyes, biting his lower lip lightly as he worries at it. Grey eyes soft and clear, even if still wet. Hesitant and cautiously hopeful. Heart breaking at how Shouto is holding himself and looking so steadfastly down, but he keeps it to himself. ]
Can I hold you instead?
[ Because I think we both need it, even when you feel so walled off. ]
[ Dread weighs heavy in his chest, taming him in a way Endeavor never could. Defiant to the end with him, he never held himself back, fighting for every inch of self-determination. This was different though. His persistence snuffed out with a single tear. Subdued for fear of driving away someone else he loves. That Allen might look at him with fear in his eyes just like his mother.
He holds himself back, the same way he did with his mother for years. Giving her space when the sight of him caused her so much pain and anxiety. Allen wasn't wrong when he said he compared him to his mother, but he wasn't right either. He didn't see his mother when he looked at him, but the depth of feelings were just as strong, held so dearly to his heart, the ice offered no protection.
The shadows of his childhood haunt him still, superseding his natural instincts. Defiance turned on its head. It leaves him at a standstill on the outside when everything in him was swinging wildly in complete opposition to the utter stillness he held himself to.
He keeps his eyes trained on the bedding. Present while far away, feeling utterly spent keeping the churning ice and wildfire from spilling over the boundaries of his skin. His heart keeps up with the demands of the cold reality of his blood clashing against the firestorm brimming inside of him, held at bay by fine-tuned control built over a decade of constant training.
His instincts push him to step back, to give him room. Back away exactly as Allen says, but Shouto defies those feelings when everything in him demands he move, he stays in place. Unwilling to simply let go as he once did.
Quietly, without ever uttering a word, he nods his head.
[ This is why he said he isn't the same as your mother. It'd take a fool not to realize this strong a reaction is coming from something so very, very deeply seated and beyond just what's happening in this moment.
The nod is enough. No, even more than that-- such a small and muted response prompts a larger one from Allen, and whether Shouto was still standing or sitting again he reaches out swiftly and smoothly to pull him bodily close as possible. With a gentle but threadbare sort of desperation, whether it's by rising up onto his knees even as he pulls him down against his own thin frame or climbing up into his lap again to press them close again. His fingers run through the short hairs at the back of his neck, threading there softly in a familiar and comforting way.
Why are you always punishing yourself so much?
He doesn't say that though. Just presses his face against his neck and breathes out softly in relief, body relaxing as some of the tension bleeds off. Breathes in the smell of him he's come to find comforting, and nuzzles lightly at him as he speaks in a gentle voice. Delicate but certain. ]
[ Shouto sits on the edge of the nook, stiff like an unbending tree. Allen's desperation barely registers under the layers of tension radiating from his unyielding form. His shoulders are stiff against him. His breathing is slow. Controlled. Like the rest of him. His shoulders rise and fall in a steady beat disguising the tension that fails to recede even with Allen pressing against him so gently.
He yields nonetheless and does as he asks, lifting his arms after a beat to wrap them around the small of his back where they settle so very carefully. The movement loosens the severity of his posture, eroding some of the tension in his muscles, enough to make the hug less stiff and awkward than it started.
His breathing keeps the same steady beat exuding a type of controlled calmness that keeps his quirk at bay. No heat or cold bleeds over to his skin. No more hurting him because he can't control his emotions. No fire. No ice. Perfectly in control even as his heart works overtime to diffuse the burning blood clashing against the ice in his veins. ]
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He looks at him gently but also a little somberly. More tired than relieved, honestly. ]
Or something like that.
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[ Is that what you were trying to tell me?
He's staring now, not the benign look he usually prescribed to him out of thoughtless curiosity but one transcribed by a hint of wariness. This time when another frown pulls at his mouth it's self-absorbed and directed at himself. ]
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He reaches for him, and figuring Shouto might resist that right now just touches the side of his face gently. His head tipping to the side as his eyes hood thoughtfully, and his voice drops a little and becomes softer. ]
But I thought you were being too hard on yourself and trying to handle it on your own.
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Don't be kind to me when you're sad. ]
I'm not doing anything different than I have from the start.
[ If anything, he spoke more to him than he ever had in the past. That's where the disconnect comes from, why he can't understand his concern.
I thought I was doing better. ]
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I know. And that's okay.
[ He sits up a little more, still speaking softly. ]
I think I just misunderstood what you meant by it. I'm sorry. [ You never had to change-- ]
I just wanted you to know it doesn't have to be something that's only on your shoulders anymore.
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[ He gently turns his chin to the side, ignoring the way his fingers slide off his cheek. This time, he wouldn't accept his kindness while he tried to apologize for voicing his concern. ]
I don't think it is okay.
[ Locking eyes with him, Shouto finds comfort in the knowledge that he was setting them back on equal footing, steeling himself from his own need to pull him into his arms. ]
Tell me, what it is you want exactly. Not 'something' or 'someone'. Or other vague terms that don't mean anything to me.
[ He reaches across the aisle to set his hands over his. ]
What is it that you want from me?
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He falters a little, this time being the one leaning back slightly and looking confused. Hesitant. ]
I just said...
[ Did he... not believe him? Because how could he be more precise than how he just was? ]
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To talk to you more.
That's vague.
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[ That answer comes more immediately and in a soft tone. And he leans in a little to look at him with a gentle but earnest expression, his eyes so very solemn, even if he doesn't move to touch him this time.
Silly. He said just said, didn't he? ]
That I just want you to know it doesn't have to all be on your shoulders.
[ It's all he ever meant. ]
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I know that already.
[ It's the thing Midoriya taught him on the very first battlefield he used his fire offensively for the first time. He sighs to himself, straightening his back as he comes to a few realizations. ]
But I'm not showing you that or else you wouldn't think I needed to hear it.
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And regardless, the one he's actually frustrated with is himself.
Miserably, Allen pulls his knees up and crosses his arms around them so he can bury his face into them and wish for Tim to hug. Aaahhh, he hates this. ]
Please just forget I said anything. I've messed up enough. [ It's slightly muffled. ]
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He's not like Allen who knows how to express himself. Who has a knack for discovering how others feel and knowing how to comfort them. Shouto will never be that person. The one who can describe his feelings in any coherent way while they're still tangled up inside him when he kept them at bay for so long.
He watches Allen pull into himself. Remembers the way he pulled back. The look he gave him when he tried to touch his hand and slips out of the nook to pick up a nearby blanket. ]
I won't forget about it.
[ He drapes it over his shoulder. ]
Next time, I'll stick to things I know how to explain better.
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He goes a little still at the pit that leaves in his stomach, even if he blinks a quickly again a second time and swallows to keep his composure in the microsecond before his expression would otherwise drop. Then you didn't really hear him at all, otherwise that's an incredibly cruel thing to say. But he doesn't say that, just reigns it in and looks up at him with a neutral, gentle expression and quiet eyes so pale and clear they're almost moon-white. That flicker and take in the hand near his face, his form, his posture, before settling finally on his mismatched eyes.
I want to reach out and hold you so bad-- I want you to hold me right now so bad, but...
He just reaches up to hook a single finger around Shouto's in a quiet, so very delicate manner. Easy to brush off. ]
Please don't promise such a sad thing.
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Allen. [ He keeps the delicate hold, even as he looks at him with a hint of worry. ] The only one who's sad is you.
[ And I don't know why. Only that I'm the cause of it. ]
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Should he bury those feelings again if this is what they cause? No... he swore he wouldn't, at least not with Shouto; couldn't live with himself if he did. So he just lets his eyes close then, and pulls on that connection very gently to press his temple lightly against the side of Shouto's hand like someone taking solace in even such a small and simple thing.
Or trying to lend support. ]
Words can be sad too.
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[ He cuts himself off, sucking in a breath, and going very still. Ignoring the urge to recoil. To throw his hands around him. ]
--What are you doing?
[ There's urgency in his tone. Tension in the hand he holds so still. It breaks his neutral stance replacing it with an anxious look full of doubt that has him dragging his hand out of his grasp to set on either side of his shoulder to better hold him up. ]
What's wrong?!
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Shouto... [ He begins but then falters, blinking again a few more times as he's momentarily tongue-tied. The sudden swing in emotion, and asking him what he's doing?
He stares at that, trying to work through it-- ]
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Ah... damn. [ The rare out-loud swear, said softly under his breath as he reaches to swipe at his eyes. Like he's trying to scatter the tears before Shouto can see them. ]
I just wanted you to be happy too, but then I said something that made mess of that for no good reason. [ Usually he's so good at that too. Not upsetting other people as best he can, making them feel at ease. Knowing what to not say as much as what to say. But then... he does that by burying himself and putting on whatever face the situation demands. Being disingenuous with his feelings to be as genuine as possible in his caring. Something he's trying really hard not to do. ]
To the point where you feel you have to stay so far away... that I can't feel you anymore.
[ Except right now, looking at him with such naked worry. And it makes him scrub again at the tears with the heels of his palms in a renewed effort to try and make them stop. Hard, mad at himself even if his voice is still soft with anguish. But they keep coming. ]
Sorry... I'm sorry, I really hate it...
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[ Don't treat him like that. Don't use that kind of gesture with him. People tripping over themselves to get to know the son of the #2. Meaningless compliments. People grabbing at him. Smiles directed at him for no reason other than the shadow of his father's legacy. Even knowing that's not the reason behind it, it disturbs him on such a fundamental level he can't stand to see it directed at him, especially not from Allen. ]
Don't do that.
[ It's not an ask. Not said in a kind or gentle tone. But the tears that come in response manage to pull him out of that cold facade before it fully settles into his features. The pendulum swings in the opposite direction so quickly, he feels out of breath. The cursing doesn't even register only the tears. His words drag him from that awful place of his childhood and he's back in Trench. Back with him, and despite the crushing bleakness in his gut he manages to get a hold of the gears working that pendulum to shut it down by force.
You made him cry. ]
Stop it. Don't apologize.
You're not the one in the wrong here.
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It's why people observant of him have always called him lonely even when he smiles in the middle of a crowd. And an idiot.
He forces himself to suck in a wet breath. Shouto's voice, not so distant and standoffish, helping to anchor him this time. The chastisement isn't an unfamiliar one. ]
Heh... [ It's humorless. A small, wry little sound. Still crying, but it's easing up. His shoulders becoming looser, and he scrubs at his cheek that's still wet. Looks up with a wincing sort of smile that's tacked together. ]
That's telling someone "you're wrong" a lot for saying they're not wrong.
[ He says it softly. Not in a contrary sort of way, but emotionally tired. ]
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Why... are you smiling?
He doesn't understand. Doesn't have the capacity to at this point in his life. Unable to comprehend even that simple line that leaves him speechless, driving in the point that he was still far behind in knowing people. ]
....
[ Little by little he closes down. Keeping a tight hold of himself. He doesn't argue with that observation. Doesn't know where he would even start when it was in complete opposition to his intentions. ]
That's not what I meant.
[ His tone is absent of any inflection. Quiet. A hint of defeat curbing his words, not wanting to fight and do more harm. He stares at the bedding in a concentrated manner, dread filling his heart in a way he hasn't felt since he was still under double digits. Back then, he'd driven away his most beloved person, now... ]
Do you want me to go?
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It's so hard. But he shakes his head lightly. ]
No, I don't. [ Even if his voice is still soft and a little lower from crying, it's immediate and certain. That's the opposite of anything he'd want. His eyes snag for a moment on Shouto's hands, starting to reach towards them before he halts himself. Fingers curling lightly into his palm. ]
And I know you didn't. [ Said more softly. ] I know you might want to back away too, but...
[ Allen looks up finally to try and meet his eyes, biting his lower lip lightly as he worries at it. Grey eyes soft and clear, even if still wet. Hesitant and cautiously hopeful. Heart breaking at how Shouto is holding himself and looking so steadfastly down, but he keeps it to himself. ]
Can I hold you instead?
[ Because I think we both need it, even when you feel so walled off. ]
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He holds himself back, the same way he did with his mother for years. Giving her space when the sight of him caused her so much pain and anxiety. Allen wasn't wrong when he said he compared him to his mother, but he wasn't right either. He didn't see his mother when he looked at him, but the depth of feelings were just as strong, held so dearly to his heart, the ice offered no protection.
The shadows of his childhood haunt him still, superseding his natural instincts. Defiance turned on its head. It leaves him at a standstill on the outside when everything in him was swinging wildly in complete opposition to the utter stillness he held himself to.
He keeps his eyes trained on the bedding. Present while far away, feeling utterly spent keeping the churning ice and wildfire from spilling over the boundaries of his skin. His heart keeps up with the demands of the cold reality of his blood clashing against the firestorm brimming inside of him, held at bay by fine-tuned control built over a decade of constant training.
His instincts push him to step back, to give him room. Back away exactly as Allen says, but Shouto defies those feelings when everything in him demands he move, he stays in place. Unwilling to simply let go as he once did.
Quietly, without ever uttering a word, he nods his head.
Yes. ]
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The nod is enough. No, even more than that-- such a small and muted response prompts a larger one from Allen, and whether Shouto was still standing or sitting again he reaches out swiftly and smoothly to pull him bodily close as possible. With a gentle but threadbare sort of desperation, whether it's by rising up onto his knees even as he pulls him down against his own thin frame or climbing up into his lap again to press them close again. His fingers run through the short hairs at the back of his neck, threading there softly in a familiar and comforting way.
Why are you always punishing yourself so much?
He doesn't say that though. Just presses his face against his neck and breathes out softly in relief, body relaxing as some of the tension bleeds off. Breathes in the smell of him he's come to find comforting, and nuzzles lightly at him as he speaks in a gentle voice. Delicate but certain. ]
Hug me back too.
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He yields nonetheless and does as he asks, lifting his arms after a beat to wrap them around the small of his back where they settle so very carefully. The movement loosens the severity of his posture, eroding some of the tension in his muscles, enough to make the hug less stiff and awkward than it started.
His breathing keeps the same steady beat exuding a type of controlled calmness that keeps his quirk at bay. No heat or cold bleeds over to his skin. No more hurting him because he can't control his emotions. No fire. No ice. Perfectly in control even as his heart works overtime to diffuse the burning blood clashing against the ice in his veins. ]
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cw: domestic abuse
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cw: domestic abuse
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