It had been hard for Eisen to suppress the urge to reach out and help Rory get onto the couch, but he’d done it. He could see that the pain was worse that day, and Eisen was only partially sure that it wasn’t from the added emotional strain of people seeming to gang up on him and push him further into the shell that he showed to everyone but Eisen. He swallowed thickly and took a seat in the center of the couch, not over on his side, not hesitating for even a second before he wrapped his arms tightly around Rory. Not tightly enough to hurt him, but tightly enough to convey exactly how desperate he was to comfort him.
A couple days prior, a similar position to this had resulted in a near-kiss – a moment that had replayed in Eisen’s mind no fewer than a thousand times since it had happened – and Eisen couldn’t be completely sure that it wouldn’t happen again. Or even worse, that it wouldn’t go farther than that.
With everything that had happened (Alex’s threat and Gio’s suggestion that he confess his feelings… not to mention the existence of those ever-obvious feelings to begin with), it was unsurprising that it occurred to Eisen exactly how right this felt. Rory wrapped in his arms, Eisen providing shelter from a world that wanted nothing more than to pull his usually-strong best friend under? It felt so right that if Eisen hadn’t been sure of what he felt before? He would be now.
His eyes fluttered closed as Rory hugged him back, and Eisen was still loathe to let go. “I’d do anything for you, Rory,” he explained. Anything… he thought, taking a soft, deep breath.
Realistically, he should have been more than capable of controlling these feelings. After all, he’d held back similar ones for Lexie for years. But with Rory in his arms right then, practically shaking like he had been that afternoon two years ago when he’d fallen and Eisen had brought him home and taken care of him, it was… it was impossible. There wasn’t a piece of Eisen’s mind that wasn’t sure of what he was feeling anymore.