RORY
i told the stars about you
There were things he had been neglecting: things he had shied away from, things his mind hadn't wanted to handle and put somewhere out of reach, where he would forget about it, and only remember it when he couldn't do anything about it. They were slightly uncomfortable things, not quite fitting his skull without causing pressure, things he had never been very good at—Rory had always been kind, yes, but he had distanced himself for a reason.Much of it was to do with what had happened anyway, but some ways because he did not always know how to handle things—people.
Are you sure, though?
No.
Back when Ronin had been dead—irreversibly, uncompromisingly, mercilessly dead. Rory had wanted to be his friend, to find some way to comfort him, soothe him, to turn back time to a time when his stomach fluttered looking into those seafoam eyes, when the Alchemist drank in the world and sketched it and the darkness of this place hadn't gotten to him yet—
But he hadn't known how to, and he had been too cowardly to try, and the moment had passed, anyway, and now Ronin was alive and watching Remi with him was beautiful though Remi was blind and—and—
That was precisely the reason Rory came to Remi's shop. That "and", the whole list preceding it, the whole list following it. Rory should've been a friend—should've been there for him—but he hadn't. And at some point, you had to start daring things, and now seemed as good a time as any. After all, someone was busy turning his entire life upside down (long live the Queen), so why not rock his own stability boat even more?
He bit his lower lip for a moment, hard enough to wince, then he gently pushed the door open with his free hand (the other was occupied by something delicious-smelling wrapped in a small cloth). "Remi?" he called into the shop.
[ for Remi <3 ]
