[ He know Shouto can struggle with comprehending people sometimes, but how? He's quiet for a moment, truly trying to figure out how to address that. It's frustrating when he's normally good at figuring something like this out, and yet he simply can't. Is it because he's too close to the issue?
Or too blind to certain aspects of himself. ]
...All I can tell you is how I feel. [ He says it softly after a long moment, speaking very gently and plainly. He'd clasp his hands in his lap, but he has to hold the omni. ]
After everything that happened, I just wanted to respect your wishes and not hurt you anymore than I had... There isn't any other reason. [ Not that doesn't tie directly to those.
Anyone else he would have argued with and defended himself more, maybe. Fought back against being seen as something he's not and called them out for being self-destructive and an idiot. But it's Shouto, so he doesn't. Couldn't, not like that. It depends on the nature of Allen's relationship with them, and theirs isn't like that.
Allen presses his fingers a little tighter against the omni, not that it shows on the screen. ]
It doesn't mean I wanted to... it just meant I should. I wasn't going to stay when you made it clear that wasn't what you wanted back then. That's just arrogant and selfish.
[ And he pauses then, turning the question back around in his head. The other side of it. ]
Why didn't you say anything, if you wanted to see me again?
I didn't tell you to leave. You did that on your own.
[ He asked for space, made a clear boundary to sort himself out, and when he returned the next day Allen was gone. No note. No message. Naturally, he assumed his absence was work-related. It wasn't that uncommon for him to come home to an empty house. It was an aspect of their work that required a certain amount of trust and flexibility on their part. Shouto trusted that Allen would come home when he was done or contact him if he was running late. Neither happened and Shouto grew worried by the second day. He checked the OMNI out of worry, his unease settling when he saw his name neatly displayed on the digital roster. It was Kizu, who kept wandering off on her own in search of Wolf and Tim that he learned where he was on the third day. Sanctuary. That settled any remaining worry. It made sense. With Sanctuary increasing its numbers, and creating new alliances with other Hunter tribes, the people there were busier than ever. It made sense he'd get caught up in work. Shouto knew what to expect from a hero household. How sudden emergencies could keep a hero stuck at an Agency for days. That it was when someone sought you out with news that you needed to worry. But he also knew how long was too long, and after a week Shouto slowly came to the realization that Allen wasn't coming back.
He spent a few days in mild shock. Struggling to understand the facts laid before him. Re-evaluating everything from the start coming back to the same question over and over again.
Why did you leave? ]
Why? [ He stares at him, the neutral look warping at the edges. ] Because you left.
[ Maybe that's what Shouto meant, but it certainly isn't how it came across. And with Allen's experiences, the terror of being the cause of a loved one's suffering yet again-- how could he gamble with that? How selfish would that be? Gambling that it was only something brief, that Shouto wouldn't want space for more than a few hours.
He smiles very faintly at that answer, the smile fixed as his eyes hood softly. Gaze dropping immediately at the hint of an edge. ]
If I got really upset with you and told you I didn't want to be around you before I left... would you stay? In a house that isn't even yours?
[ He shakes his head immediately though, as if dismissing any importance to the thought. ]
You don't have to answer. [ It's rhetorical. And he just smiles slightly at realizing something, thin and wan. How they're about to go in circles again. ]
Maybe we're both just really bad at this sometimes.
[ He whispers, cutting himself off as the final puzzle piece snaps into place breaking the foundation of his worldview. This is what he couldn't comprehend. What he missed for half a year. The answer to so many misunderstandings that lead them in circles at every turn. ]
You don't think it's yours, too.
All this time and you... I thought...
[ His words die down. Too many questions hit him at once and he can't grasp a single one when all of them put into question everything he thought he knew about their relationship. What... are we? Before this, he imagined he knew the answer. Now... I don't know. He had no answer even for the simplest of questions. What else did I miss?
I should have asked him. He backtracks to the last year trying to figure out what he could have done differently to make it clear.
I just assumed...
His eyes flick across the tiny scars crawling over his hands and he sucks in a shaky breath. The camera trembles in his hands. ]
[ He whispers, his eyes fixed on those tiny scars. ]
We're we just playing house?
[ Despite his best effort, anguish twists his face into uncanny contortions only a grand puppet master could pull from him in a span of a few seconds. Ice starts to creep up his neck before receding to wisps of fire that flicker through his hair. They die out in a puff of steam (or was that mist?). ]
I thought...
[ His throat muscles tense up forcing him to take shallow breaths through his mouth. ]
[ Just like that, Allen's entire demeanor drops like a stone. Head jerking up in shock and horror at how Shouto crumples, his eyes going wide at that.That's how you chose to take it.
He nearly falls over himself in launching himself out of the bed. Swift and desperate, the same as his tone. ]
Don't you dare say it's just something like that. [ This time his voice rings strong and clear, not angry or accusing or even hurt, but decisive. No room for argument. ] I always said how I felt. [ And those feelings were real. Still are. He never minded the fact he technically never knew Shouto's because he never said, in fact specifically said he didn't know them, choosing instead to focus on how his actions made him feel. But when it came time where he had to choose to be presumptive of them?
No. He's never going to presume something like that in his favor. That's just not the nature of his character. ]
If you want someone to be sure of how you feel or how you see them, you have to tell them. And what I told you isn't "playing house."
[ Allen straightens, his demeanor still a livewire. Panic channeled into calmer action. ]
[ It feels like he's scrambling up a glacier with a crevasse at every turn. Deep cracks open old familiar wounds that make his eyes throb behind his skull. Allen's words are like a beacon against the backdrop of the snow drifts that smother all other sounds. They pierce through the cacophony bringing order to his thoughts, keeping him from sliding back down.
They hurt still, bringing into stark consideration how much he's at fault for his silence. For not voicing what he felt when he wasn't sure how to articulate it in a way that made sense. He let himself think, he could show him how he felt instead of telling him because that's how he internalized the world, placing more meaning on what someone did than what they said.
[ He pauses in grabbing his coat, the new generation exorcist jacket. Gaze settling back across the omni as his expression flickers for a moment at the unexpected apology, and his features soften.
Did you ever know what to tell him? On one hand, to Allen it was obvious from his actions, at least in sentiment. But on the other, the only way Shouto voiced them was that he didn't know how he felt. That was painful, sure, but a pain Allen was used to dealing with. He'd wait, he'd always wait, and not try to presume too much about them. He can't be presumptive in that state of limbo.
He's always been a guest in someone else's world, after all. Never belonged anywhere for very long. The only reason that seemed like it might change... was the moment he realized his being in someone's world could be what lit it up and made it whole. The moment he thought maybe that wasn't true though, that maybe he had presumed things anyway that he shouldn't have and was just someone who kept hurting them more than he helped them...
No, maybe the question has never been about how you feel. It's what you want us to be-- and in that case... did even Allen know? He too had been complacent in believing they didn't need to define that. ]
I'm still coming. [ His voice is softer, but no less clear or determined. ]
[ Shouto built his world one stone at a time. Putting thought into every placement before setting down his foundation. That's why it took him so long to get anywhere but once in place, there was nothing that could disturb it.
That foundation was crumbling before him. His careful arrangements placed in the wrong order by assumptions he'd never verified for himself.
What am I to you? ]
We were never equals.
[ And that hurt more than anything. Knowing now, in hindsight, how Allen really felt. The home they remodeled together was never really his in his eyes. What else did he think wasn't his? Is that why he left without anything? The tears come then, quiet and unobtrusive as they run down his cheek, perfectly capturing the hollow feeling in his throat. ]
[ Allen flinches at that, but represses it so it only shows in how he bites his lip for a moment. Stares at the screen, at Shouto, that he's crying, and curses that why didn't he wait until they could be in person.
There's a whirl of luminescent white then, feathers from his invocation forming filling the screen, before he reluctantly has to cut the camera off. Still there, but only in voice. He's moving. With his Innocence, even if normally that isn't something he just uses to get around unless it's an emergency. ]
"Equals"?
[ It's soft with regret but confused, not following. ]
[ He's long stopped looking at the screen to notice the burning white shifting to dark. The sound of movement registers at the edge of his thoughts. He knows what it means, but feels too hollow to give it more than a passing thought. ]
I saw what it did to my parents when you don't have it.
[ For all that he didn't understand his feelings, he knew that from the start. He never wanted the disparity that he saw with his mother. Hated how his father blew off his siblings in favor of him for something he was born with and they weren't. He wanted to be like them so he wouldn't have to suffer being alone. He wanted his mother to have somewhere to go and not have to suffer someone who abused her. He suffered the disparity of a household built on inequality every day just as powerless as his mother.
It wasn't about the fact that he left. He could endure that. It was finding out the reason he left. That disparity he hated so much entrenched into the very depths of what he loved so much. His shoulders start to shake, not from the cold, but from the blossoming pain that came with knowing he'd ended up exactly where he never wanted to be.
He sucks in a breath, breathing through his mouth as the tears turn to ice, hurting his eyelids as they crash on the ground, breaking apart like delicate crystals. He reigns himself in, fire burning through his veins to warm himself up, but he goes too far. His shoulder starts to smolder turning the fine threads to ash at the slope of his shoulder before he reigns himself in a second time. ]
[ I still don't know what you mean, even as that makes Allen bite his lip again and his thoughts race to try and figure it out. Dropping down out the window to the Sanctuary lamp more than two stories below instead of waiting on the stairs, and passing quickly through its reality warp to Prufrock. What makes you say we're unequal? There might be a lot of things to be said about them, but no matter how he wracks his brain he can't figure out how it's that.
He also hates trying to have this conversation when he's not there, and is torn so hard between again, not wanting to make things worse -- but wanting to stop the pain too.
The cycle. ]
I thought you said you weren't doing that anymore, comparing us to your parents. [ He says it gently yes, but sternly too. Heart breaking to hear the uneven, short breathes even over the wind and just wanting to pull him back from it. Wanting to hold him, and moving recklessly fast to do so. ] It's unfair.
[ He hates it. ]
I saw that part of your past when the nightmare had you. [ His breath is uneven and urgent with effort as it takes strength and concentration to move with the acrobatic rooftop-to-rooftop speed he can, but he stays remarkably composed considering it. ] When we were separated. How they fought when you were little. And whatever faults we've had, we're nothing like that.
[ Not even a little. Not even the precursors for something that ugly. That much he is utterly certain of, more for what he knows and believes of Shouto's own heart, and it's emphasized with the stronger and punctuated way in which he says that. There's a small huff as he drops to land somewhere, and then picks the pace back up again. ]
So why do you keep dragging us into it and dwelling on that past so much if you don't want to repeat it?
[ Shouto sets his back on a wooden post to catch his breath using a breathing exercise to calm his racing heart. The sound of Allen's voice becomes a waymarker he uses to find his center to reign in his quirk before it has a chance to react to the old familiar pain he couldn't stuff back down. ]
... I'm still afraid of ending up there.
[ More than anything. He rather lose him than come to find out, he clipped his wings without ever knowing it. That's why he couldn't hold onto him so tightly. Why he let go as soon as he ran into any resistance. He spent his whole life curbing his natural tendency to cling to the people he loved, knowing that if he held on too tightly, he'd end up hurting them. ]
[ Oh, his heart squeezes at that, and Allen is quiet for a moment. It strikes a chord too close to home for him too, even if his own past was very different. And he's quiet as well because he knows that isn't something that has any easy answer.
No answer, save the only one he knows. The hard path he's always been on. ]
I know.
[ He says it so gently and looks up, seeing the familiar forest line as the edge of the city begins to give way. Almost there. ]
I don't want to end up there. Not anywhere near it.
That's why... I had to leave. Why it's okay if you leave, if that's what you want. I won't ever stop you. I don't want to hold onto you so tightly you end up hurt.
[ There's a small and short sound Allen makes at that, taken aback and a little strangled. Hard to tell if he's stung by that, or irritated, or something else. ]
I-- [ He tries again, fails, coming up remarkably tongue-tied for once, and... can't. The call cuts off with another strangled, curt noise.
But a second later Timcanpy rockets overhead too, a golden beacon clearing over the treetops and circling overhead. And behind him Allen, blended in with the nighttime winter forest in the snow between his own thin black-clad frame and the billowing white of Crown Clown. Forests are harder for him to try and move through like that than urban areas though, attaching himself to high trees with his ribbon tethers and pulling himself along like a trapeze artist, and the branches tear at him in a way he's been utterly ignoring. He makes it to the clearing at the height of his next upward swing though, high up and momentarily as weightless as a snowflake, before he comes down and lands at the steps to the enclosed engawa with a reckless forward momentum that has him almost trip over his own feet. He recovers though, getting his footing in a brief scramble--
And launches himself at Shouto. Not crashing into him but lunging to him, boots hitting the floor solidly to either side of him for balance as he lands in a crouch around him and reaches and half scoops him up and against him as much as he throws himself into the embrace too. Letting go of his invocation as he does so, the voluminous and ragged-looking cloak disseminating into so many feathers in the air like snow, so that he might have two relatively human and less dangerous hands with which to hold him. ]
People get hurt when you let go, too.
[ His voice is soft and strong both, but anguished. Muffled against Shouto's neck as he holds on tight, so tight, and the shards of light taking the form of feathers slowly settle and fade behind him. ]
[ The wood groans in protest from landing from so up high depositing all that momentum on a single board that shakes beneath his feet. Shouto jerks his head up, catching a cascade of white billowing all around him. If he wasn't already used to his invocation, he'd lose himself in the feathers that spun around him as ribbons of light when he dispels it.
His head jerks up at the sudden entrance. Gone are the tears whose presence can be found in the lines down his face and the few frozen ones that catch the spinning light that rides forward with him, dismissed yet clinging on to him before disappearing from view.
He's still registering his presence along with Tim's when Allen lands in front of him, dragging him into his arms. He sucks in a breath, registering the warmth radiating from as he's met with the sound of his voice vibrating against his neck.
Shouto trembles in his arms and throws his arms around him in an instant having missed the scent of lightning in the air with a touch of winter. The yukata limits his movements, but he manages to bury his own face in his hair, feeling the loss of him all at once after spending so long burying it deep down until he couldn't feel it anymore. His fingers clutch onto his back a little desperately, struggling to keep his temperature in check. ]
I missed you.
[ He kisses the top of his head, unable to stop himself, as he fights with the fabric to raise his arms up to touch his face. ]
[ Allen's trembling too, despite his strong grip, but not so much that he can't feel Shouto shake too. The scent of fire and ice hits him, bittersweet, and he notices finally the smoldered patch of yukata and Shouto's bare left shoulder. It hits him in the rush of everything, a deluge of feeling, scent, touch, and warmth breaking through what feels like a dam, but stands out nonetheless. You lost control of yourself and burnt it--
But the unshed tears he'd been trying to hold back the last few minutes well in relief instead of sadness when Allen feels him kiss the top of his head and admit that tenderly and not in regret, something he wasn't sure if he dared hope for but did nonetheless. He raises his head when he feels Shouto bring his hands up, turning his face into the touch and rubbing his cheek against his hand in a silent, painfully longing kind of manner. ]
I missed you too. [ Said half breathlessly, trying to nuzzle against how he's touching his face but also Shouto too, lightly bumping and brushing their noses together in that same loving but quietly yearning way. His fingers dig into the back of his yukata, bunching it up and pulling it down; a counterpoint.
This feeling is... like two puzzle pieces snapping together. Even if it's hard sometimes and he doubts himself... wasn't he still originally right in thinking maybe, just this time... it really could just be about making each other happy? Being better together than apart? Was that just him being blinded by those feelings? Or was he trying to blind himself to them?
He nuzzles again at Shouto, in a quiet way of relishing the slightest touch. Fairy-like brushes of almost-kisses. Tries to meet his eyes, his own a raw and glittering sort of silver. ]
[ He pulls against the fabric to touch his face. His fingers skim over the familiar scar that ran down his eye like a delicate line, and he bends down to brush his lips against him. Two weeks. One week of doubt the other of finality. He buried the longing in a bed of ice, putting away his omni afraid he'd tried to contact him after he left. He wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't hold him back. Wouldn't try to convince him to come back when he'd left on his own. He knew what it meant to find someone gone in his life from one day to the next with no word of leave. ]
I didn't want you to go.
[ He never meant that. Just space enough to sort himself out. If he had stayed that acrid feeling would have continued to grow. He knew how he was when it got a hold of him. The cold fire that turned him into a vision of his father. He was afraid of snapping at him in a way he never wanted to.
He swallows past the lump in his throat. Quivers from the elation coursing through him mixed with regret. From the concentration, it takes to keep himself from burning up more of his clothes when all he wanted to do was kiss him. He leans down to do just that. Pressing his lips against his in a delicate manner; a practice in restraint. ]
[ It's such a delicate and sweet kiss, one that melts the tense way he had been holding himself and causes Allen to finally relax against him and press his mouth back in return, it almost pulls him from the importance of what Shouto said. Something that makes his chest seize in a bittersweet kind of joy more even than the kiss. That is what you want, for your own sake too.
When you already made it clear how you could punish yourself for what you thought was his sake... the worst thing he could imagine would be to do anything to encourage that. Putting aside your own wants for what you thought his were.
He brings his hands up and lets one thread delicately through Shouto's hair as they kiss, strong fingers of his other hand flexing against his shoulder and kneading the muscle there. When they finally have to part for breath he breaks away for only a second, before touching his lips to his cheek. To the line where he had been crying before, that he follows up to the corner of his eye, raining the softest and most gentle kisses that he can on wherever he can reach. Shifting his weight onto his knees and bringing both hands up to skim along his face as he goes, gently caressing in butterfly strokes that dance across his own scar. Sweet and affectionate.
[ At first, he doesn't understand what he's doing until his lips land across his lashes making his intentions clear and Shouto, barely used to the kind of affection he always yearned for but barely got growing up, finds his throat clogging with unspent emotion. His eyes fall close, letting him continue with obstruction until he moves on pressing kiss after kiss like a balm to an open wound. ]
Allen--
[ His voice cracks from trying to speak past the lump in his throat. He presses his cheek to his and runs a hand through his hair, while he works the muscles of his throat to get the words out. ]
I don't want to continue like this.
[ He lets out a heated breath against his cheek, hot enough to melt the snow drifting in the air. It helps ease the tightness in his throat letting him say what he needs to without interruption. ]
I want to know what we are.
[ The heat radiating off him settles his nerves and melts the bit of snow that clung to both of them from the passing snow that drifted onto the ledge of the engawa. ]
[ He stops the moment he says his name like that, voice cracking in a way he's never heard from Shouto, hesitating even as his lips have just grazed his brow. Uncertain at first, uneasy and starting to tense up when he says I don't want to continue like this, but then thoughtful when he goes on. And he becomes quiet, easing up and just relaxing gently against him as his thoughts turn, finding himself both lulled by and focusing on the persistent heat radiating off Shouto now.
He bites his lip lightly, before letting his eyes close and leaning his cheek back in kind. ]
...I've never had a name for it. [ He admits it very softly, slow with deliberate contemplation. ]
I think... maybe I've thought more about what I hoped it was. [ But wouldn't presume. Not when Shouto was clear on how he was still trying to understand how he even felt about him.
He brings a hand up to touch his back gently, a little hesitantly. ]
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no subject
He blinks, surprised even out of his own thoughts and at a bit of a loss. ]
I told you...
[ Genuinely, he doesn't know what else the answer could be that he didn't already give. What is it you're trying to ask? ]
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Or too blind to certain aspects of himself. ]
...All I can tell you is how I feel. [ He says it softly after a long moment, speaking very gently and plainly. He'd clasp his hands in his lap, but he has to hold the omni. ]
After everything that happened, I just wanted to respect your wishes and not hurt you anymore than I had... There isn't any other reason. [ Not that doesn't tie directly to those.
Anyone else he would have argued with and defended himself more, maybe. Fought back against being seen as something he's not and called them out for being self-destructive and an idiot. But it's Shouto, so he doesn't. Couldn't, not like that. It depends on the nature of Allen's relationship with them, and theirs isn't like that.
Allen presses his fingers a little tighter against the omni, not that it shows on the screen. ]
It doesn't mean I wanted to... it just meant I should. I wasn't going to stay when you made it clear that wasn't what you wanted back then. That's just arrogant and selfish.
[ And he pauses then, turning the question back around in his head. The other side of it. ]
Why didn't you say anything, if you wanted to see me again?
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[ He struggles when things don't add up. ]
I didn't tell you to leave. You did that on your own.
[ He asked for space, made a clear boundary to sort himself out, and when he returned the next day Allen was gone. No note. No message. Naturally, he assumed his absence was work-related. It wasn't that uncommon for him to come home to an empty house. It was an aspect of their work that required a certain amount of trust and flexibility on their part. Shouto trusted that Allen would come home when he was done or contact him if he was running late. Neither happened and Shouto grew worried by the second day. He checked the OMNI out of worry, his unease settling when he saw his name neatly displayed on the digital roster. It was Kizu, who kept wandering off on her own in search of Wolf and Tim that he learned where he was on the third day. Sanctuary. That settled any remaining worry. It made sense. With Sanctuary increasing its numbers, and creating new alliances with other Hunter tribes, the people there were busier than ever. It made sense he'd get caught up in work. Shouto knew what to expect from a hero household. How sudden emergencies could keep a hero stuck at an Agency for days. That it was when someone sought you out with news that you needed to worry. But he also knew how long was too long, and after a week Shouto slowly came to the realization that Allen wasn't coming back.
He spent a few days in mild shock. Struggling to understand the facts laid before him. Re-evaluating everything from the start coming back to the same question over and over again.
Why did you leave? ]
Why? [ He stares at him, the neutral look warping at the edges. ] Because you left.
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He smiles very faintly at that answer, the smile fixed as his eyes hood softly. Gaze dropping immediately at the hint of an edge. ]
If I got really upset with you and told you I didn't want to be around you before I left... would you stay? In a house that isn't even yours?
[ He shakes his head immediately though, as if dismissing any importance to the thought. ]
You don't have to answer. [ It's rhetorical. And he just smiles slightly at realizing something, thin and wan. How they're about to go in circles again. ]
Maybe we're both just really bad at this sometimes.
I'm sorry.
1/2
[ He whispers, cutting himself off as the final puzzle piece snaps into place breaking the foundation of his worldview. This is what he couldn't comprehend. What he missed for half a year. The answer to so many misunderstandings that lead them in circles at every turn. ]
You don't think it's yours, too.
All this time and you... I thought...
[ His words die down. Too many questions hit him at once and he can't grasp a single one when all of them put into question everything he thought he knew about their relationship. What... are we? Before this, he imagined he knew the answer. Now... I don't know. He had no answer even for the simplest of questions. What else did I miss?
I should have asked him. He backtracks to the last year trying to figure out what he could have done differently to make it clear.
I just assumed...
His eyes flick across the tiny scars crawling over his hands and he sucks in a shaky breath. The camera trembles in his hands. ]
2/2
[ He whispers, his eyes fixed on those tiny scars. ]
We're we just playing house?
[ Despite his best effort, anguish twists his face into uncanny contortions only a grand puppet master could pull from him in a span of a few seconds. Ice starts to creep up his neck before receding to wisps of fire that flicker through his hair. They die out in a puff of steam (or was that mist?). ]
I thought...
[ His throat muscles tense up forcing him to take shallow breaths through his mouth. ]
We both saw it the same.
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He nearly falls over himself in launching himself out of the bed. Swift and desperate, the same as his tone. ]
Don't you dare say it's just something like that. [ This time his voice rings strong and clear, not angry or accusing or even hurt, but decisive. No room for argument. ] I always said how I felt. [ And those feelings were real. Still are. He never minded the fact he technically never knew Shouto's because he never said, in fact specifically said he didn't know them, choosing instead to focus on how his actions made him feel. But when it came time where he had to choose to be presumptive of them?
No. He's never going to presume something like that in his favor. That's just not the nature of his character. ]
If you want someone to be sure of how you feel or how you see them, you have to tell them. And what I told you isn't "playing house."
[ Allen straightens, his demeanor still a livewire. Panic channeled into calmer action. ]
I'm coming. [ Right now. ]
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They hurt still, bringing into stark consideration how much he's at fault for his silence. For not voicing what he felt when he wasn't sure how to articulate it in a way that made sense. He let himself think, he could show him how he felt instead of telling him because that's how he internalized the world, placing more meaning on what someone did than what they said.
He became complacent. ]
I'm sorry for not telling you.
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Did you ever know what to tell him? On one hand, to Allen it was obvious from his actions, at least in sentiment. But on the other, the only way Shouto voiced them was that he didn't know how he felt. That was painful, sure, but a pain Allen was used to dealing with. He'd wait, he'd always wait, and not try to presume too much about them. He can't be presumptive in that state of limbo.
He's always been a guest in someone else's world, after all. Never belonged anywhere for very long. The only reason that seemed like it might change... was the moment he realized his being in someone's world could be what lit it up and made it whole. The moment he thought maybe that wasn't true though, that maybe he had presumed things anyway that he shouldn't have and was just someone who kept hurting them more than he helped them...
No, maybe the question has never been about how you feel. It's what you want us to be-- and in that case... did even Allen know? He too had been complacent in believing they didn't need to define that. ]
I'm still coming. [ His voice is softer, but no less clear or determined. ]
Nothing's changed how I feel.
no subject
[ Shouto built his world one stone at a time. Putting thought into every placement before setting down his foundation. That's why it took him so long to get anywhere but once in place, there was nothing that could disturb it.
That foundation was crumbling before him. His careful arrangements placed in the wrong order by assumptions he'd never verified for himself.
What am I to you? ]
We were never equals.
[ And that hurt more than anything. Knowing now, in hindsight, how Allen really felt. The home they remodeled together was never really his in his eyes. What else did he think wasn't his? Is that why he left without anything? The tears come then, quiet and unobtrusive as they run down his cheek, perfectly capturing the hollow feeling in his throat. ]
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There's a whirl of luminescent white then, feathers from his invocation forming filling the screen, before he reluctantly has to cut the camera off. Still there, but only in voice. He's moving. With his Innocence, even if normally that isn't something he just uses to get around unless it's an emergency. ]
"Equals"?
[ It's soft with regret but confused, not following. ]
cw: domestic abuse
I saw what it did to my parents when you don't have it.
[ For all that he didn't understand his feelings, he knew that from the start. He never wanted the disparity that he saw with his mother. Hated how his father blew off his siblings in favor of him for something he was born with and they weren't. He wanted to be like them so he wouldn't have to suffer being alone. He wanted his mother to have somewhere to go and not have to suffer someone who abused her. He suffered the disparity of a household built on inequality every day just as powerless as his mother.
It wasn't about the fact that he left. He could endure that. It was finding out the reason he left. That disparity he hated so much entrenched into the very depths of what he loved so much. His shoulders start to shake, not from the cold, but from the blossoming pain that came with knowing he'd ended up exactly where he never wanted to be.
He sucks in a breath, breathing through his mouth as the tears turn to ice, hurting his eyelids as they crash on the ground, breaking apart like delicate crystals. He reigns himself in, fire burning through his veins to warm himself up, but he goes too far. His shoulder starts to smolder turning the fine threads to ash at the slope of his shoulder before he reigns himself in a second time. ]
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He also hates trying to have this conversation when he's not there, and is torn so hard between again, not wanting to make things worse -- but wanting to stop the pain too.
The cycle. ]
I thought you said you weren't doing that anymore, comparing us to your parents. [ He says it gently yes, but sternly too. Heart breaking to hear the uneven, short breathes even over the wind and just wanting to pull him back from it. Wanting to hold him, and moving recklessly fast to do so. ] It's unfair.
[ He hates it. ]
I saw that part of your past when the nightmare had you. [ His breath is uneven and urgent with effort as it takes strength and concentration to move with the acrobatic rooftop-to-rooftop speed he can, but he stays remarkably composed considering it. ] When we were separated. How they fought when you were little. And whatever faults we've had, we're nothing like that.
[ Not even a little. Not even the precursors for something that ugly. That much he is utterly certain of, more for what he knows and believes of Shouto's own heart, and it's emphasized with the stronger and punctuated way in which he says that. There's a small huff as he drops to land somewhere, and then picks the pace back up again. ]
So why do you keep dragging us into it and dwelling on that past so much if you don't want to repeat it?
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... I'm still afraid of ending up there.
[ More than anything. He rather lose him than come to find out, he clipped his wings without ever knowing it. That's why he couldn't hold onto him so tightly. Why he let go as soon as he ran into any resistance. He spent his whole life curbing his natural tendency to cling to the people he loved, knowing that if he held on too tightly, he'd end up hurting them. ]
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No answer, save the only one he knows. The hard path he's always been on. ]
I know.
[ He says it so gently and looks up, seeing the familiar forest line as the edge of the city begins to give way. Almost there. ]
But I believe you'll move forward.
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That's why... I had to leave. Why it's okay if you leave, if that's what you want. I won't ever stop you. I don't want to hold onto you so tightly you end up hurt.
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I-- [ He tries again, fails, coming up remarkably tongue-tied for once, and... can't. The call cuts off with another strangled, curt noise.
But a second later Timcanpy rockets overhead too, a golden beacon clearing over the treetops and circling overhead. And behind him Allen, blended in with the nighttime winter forest in the snow between his own thin black-clad frame and the billowing white of Crown Clown. Forests are harder for him to try and move through like that than urban areas though, attaching himself to high trees with his ribbon tethers and pulling himself along like a trapeze artist, and the branches tear at him in a way he's been utterly ignoring. He makes it to the clearing at the height of his next upward swing though, high up and momentarily as weightless as a snowflake, before he comes down and lands at the steps to the enclosed engawa with a reckless forward momentum that has him almost trip over his own feet. He recovers though, getting his footing in a brief scramble--
And launches himself at Shouto. Not crashing into him but lunging to him, boots hitting the floor solidly to either side of him for balance as he lands in a crouch around him and reaches and half scoops him up and against him as much as he throws himself into the embrace too. Letting go of his invocation as he does so, the voluminous and ragged-looking cloak disseminating into so many feathers in the air like snow, so that he might have two relatively human and less dangerous hands with which to hold him. ]
People get hurt when you let go, too.
[ His voice is soft and strong both, but anguished. Muffled against Shouto's neck as he holds on tight, so tight, and the shards of light taking the form of feathers slowly settle and fade behind him. ]
So I'm sorry. I'm sorry too.
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His head jerks up at the sudden entrance. Gone are the tears whose presence can be found in the lines down his face and the few frozen ones that catch the spinning light that rides forward with him, dismissed yet clinging on to him before disappearing from view.
He's still registering his presence along with Tim's when Allen lands in front of him, dragging him into his arms. He sucks in a breath, registering the warmth radiating from as he's met with the sound of his voice vibrating against his neck.
Shouto trembles in his arms and throws his arms around him in an instant having missed the scent of lightning in the air with a touch of winter. The yukata limits his movements, but he manages to bury his own face in his hair, feeling the loss of him all at once after spending so long burying it deep down until he couldn't feel it anymore. His fingers clutch onto his back a little desperately, struggling to keep his temperature in check. ]
I missed you.
[ He kisses the top of his head, unable to stop himself, as he fights with the fabric to raise his arms up to touch his face. ]
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But the unshed tears he'd been trying to hold back the last few minutes well in relief instead of sadness when Allen feels him kiss the top of his head and admit that tenderly and not in regret, something he wasn't sure if he dared hope for but did nonetheless. He raises his head when he feels Shouto bring his hands up, turning his face into the touch and rubbing his cheek against his hand in a silent, painfully longing kind of manner. ]
I missed you too. [ Said half breathlessly, trying to nuzzle against how he's touching his face but also Shouto too, lightly bumping and brushing their noses together in that same loving but quietly yearning way. His fingers dig into the back of his yukata, bunching it up and pulling it down; a counterpoint.
This feeling is... like two puzzle pieces snapping together. Even if it's hard sometimes and he doubts himself... wasn't he still originally right in thinking maybe, just this time... it really could just be about making each other happy? Being better together than apart? Was that just him being blinded by those feelings? Or was he trying to blind himself to them?
He nuzzles again at Shouto, in a quiet way of relishing the slightest touch. Fairy-like brushes of almost-kisses. Tries to meet his eyes, his own a raw and glittering sort of silver. ]
I missed you so much.
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I didn't want you to go.
[ He never meant that. Just space enough to sort himself out. If he had stayed that acrid feeling would have continued to grow. He knew how he was when it got a hold of him. The cold fire that turned him into a vision of his father. He was afraid of snapping at him in a way he never wanted to.
He swallows past the lump in his throat. Quivers from the elation coursing through him mixed with regret. From the concentration, it takes to keep himself from burning up more of his clothes when all he wanted to do was kiss him. He leans down to do just that. Pressing his lips against his in a delicate manner; a practice in restraint. ]
I still don't.
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When you already made it clear how you could punish yourself for what you thought was his sake... the worst thing he could imagine would be to do anything to encourage that. Putting aside your own wants for what you thought his were.
He brings his hands up and lets one thread delicately through Shouto's hair as they kiss, strong fingers of his other hand flexing against his shoulder and kneading the muscle there. When they finally have to part for breath he breaks away for only a second, before touching his lips to his cheek. To the line where he had been crying before, that he follows up to the corner of his eye, raining the softest and most gentle kisses that he can on wherever he can reach. Shifting his weight onto his knees and bringing both hands up to skim along his face as he goes, gently caressing in butterfly strokes that dance across his own scar. Sweet and affectionate.
And apologetic, too. ]
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Allen--
[ His voice cracks from trying to speak past the lump in his throat. He presses his cheek to his and runs a hand through his hair, while he works the muscles of his throat to get the words out. ]
I don't want to continue like this.
[ He lets out a heated breath against his cheek, hot enough to melt the snow drifting in the air. It helps ease the tightness in his throat letting him say what he needs to without interruption. ]
I want to know what we are.
[ The heat radiating off him settles his nerves and melts the bit of snow that clung to both of them from the passing snow that drifted onto the ledge of the engawa. ]
I thought I knew... I assumed...
[ Het lets out a shaky breath. ]
I don't want to assume anymore.
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He bites his lip lightly, before letting his eyes close and leaning his cheek back in kind. ]
...I've never had a name for it. [ He admits it very softly, slow with deliberate contemplation. ]
I think... maybe I've thought more about what I hoped it was. [ But wouldn't presume. Not when Shouto was clear on how he was still trying to understand how he even felt about him.
He brings a hand up to touch his back gently, a little hesitantly. ]
...Did you figure it out? What your feelings are?
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Some of them. I know I like you on the inside and the outside. Not just as a friend but like someone I want to kiss and hold.
[ He tries to articulate that better but it proves too unfamiliar from what he knows. ]
When I think about you, you feel like... happiness. At least... that's what I feel when I look at you.
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cw: domestic abuse
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