| [Nov. 16th, 2008|10:24 pm] |
Kakashi's grip faltered and dropped away, hands falling to land on the bend of Ryouma's knee and the crumpled covers. That was and wasn't an answer; I don't know twisting into something else entirely, while long, unsteady fingers feathered over the salt-sticky cut of his too-bare face.
"If I had any virtue," he managed, "I'd appreciate the attempt to keep it safe. But seeing as I'm not an incapable heroine, and Ginta's definitely already feeling his bruises, you can stop trying to white knight me."
I'm not dating you, said Ryouma. Not in love with you. Two sentences that made something loosen and tighten in his chest all at once, but he was too exhausted to do more than glance at the emotions, and not nearly sane enough to make sense of them.
You stop the world from falling apart.
Kakashi leaned sideways, just enough to pull away from the hand against his face, and let himself slouch forwards, curling over until his forehead could rest just above the brace strapped to Ryouma's knee. The angle of his own arm hid half of his face; his hair shrouded the rest. Even through his blocked nose, he could catch the very edge of Ryouma's scent, torn between anger and something that was far too close to sorrow.
"You're not an easy lay," he muttered, and felt Hoshika settle slowly behind him. "You're about the most complicated--I don't have words for how much of a pain you are. Even before you broke my door." It should have been impossible to sleep with his seals gone, with his room wide open to anyone that felt like getting curious, but he didn't have the energy left to care. "If you were anyone else, I'd throw you the hell out..."
But underneath everything, hearing he was still needed, that he hadn't managed to drive Ryouma away despite a broken knee and crying like a child, was just enough to ease a fraction of the tension knotting his muscles harder than iron.
And that more than anything meant he was long past exhausted and falling off the edge.
"I need to sleep," he mumbled, quiet enough that the words were half lost. "Just for a bit. You can--you can go if you want." His fingers closed on denim for a fraction of a second, before he could make them loosen. "I'll keep it together better when I wake up."
The world or himself, either would be nice. |
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