// i saw the walls, finished and plain //
He really shouldn’t be surprised with the way Casimir reacts. The stiffening, the quickened pace of the thumb tracing his knuckles — knuckles that have rarely been used for violence but had mended or built far more than anything else.
He draws quiet, letting Casimir decide how he should respond, if he even responds. He does try to remain just as open and quietly curious, scanning his face, but when Cas rips his hand from his touch and buries his face in it, that same desperation and brokenness seemingly coming out of nowhere, but still there the same.
Thorn wastes little time in closing that distance — not trying to take his hand again but instead wraps his arms around him to pull him in against his chest and the vine tattoos. “S’okay. You don’t have to figure it out now.” Or ever, really, but Thorn doesn’t let that fall from his lips.
Instead, he just aims to cradle him close. “We can figure it out together, yeah?”
He draws quiet, letting Casimir decide how he should respond, if he even responds. He does try to remain just as open and quietly curious, scanning his face, but when Cas rips his hand from his touch and buries his face in it, that same desperation and brokenness seemingly coming out of nowhere, but still there the same.
Thorn wastes little time in closing that distance — not trying to take his hand again but instead wraps his arms around him to pull him in against his chest and the vine tattoos. “S’okay. You don’t have to figure it out now.” Or ever, really, but Thorn doesn’t let that fall from his lips.
Instead, he just aims to cradle him close. “We can figure it out together, yeah?”
Hawthorn
// lavender blooms on the ink of my name //
