Re: In-person: Misha B/Damian W
[Damian did not know what had been done. He knew Misha had affected him, had used his ability, that he had liked how it felt too much, and that the boy was perhaps guilty about this, but it was not such a trespass that he should be speechless. Or so the man thought. He did not know where the ground was beneath his feet, and so it was easier to cling, to hold onto the angel, to feel the vibrations of his humming against nose and forehead and cheek, then to hear the chorus of voice sweet in his ear, where it trickled down from his temple. He knew the song now, after the few days with Misha. He liked the angel's version better. It was softer.
The rocking was stupid. He should have thought it was stupid. But it felt oddly soothing for someone who had never been in the womb to associate such movement with safety. (He knew that the motion sustained a boosting of slow oscillations in the brain, as well, that led to faster sleep. But, he did not feel this was particularly relevant.) He breathed out against white pallor'd skin. Muffled, he spoke once the crooning tapered.] You did nothing wrong.