It was a night for worries and fears to catch and claw at him, to hunt his waking thoughts and devour his dreams. Even if Rory told him not to worry the part of him that was so freshly attuned to his guilt couldn't help but twinge at the thought of ruining his lover's night, and of dragging the tired farmer down with him. That was the part that had snarled and torn at his heart after the knife had been dug in beneath the scarring, releasing fresh blood from wounds both old and new. He had walked with guilt for too long for it to be so easily brushed aside now. And yet...
And yet it was Rory speaking the words; quiet and gentle, honest and kind. In all of Caido, Jigano trusted him more than any other, and if he said not to worry... well, it was not so easy to do, but the bard nodded silently against the other man's back, determined to at least try and not let that one extra portion of guilt settle onto his already-heavy heart.
He hesitated at the sigh, unsure what it meant even after so many nights spent together. He didn't tense, but there was a sense of waiting in his body until Rory turned over, and then Jigano let out his held breath with relief that needed no voice. He kept his arm curled over his partner's waist as he repositioned, finding comfort in the contact, and when a gentle thumb stroked across his cheeks and fingers slid through his hair he closed his eyes, tilting his head a fraction into the contact. From such small things he took strength.
Did he want to talk about it? Yes, for Rory deserved to know. And... no, because he did not want to admit that he had been to a Shrine, knowing that the farmer had received short shrift from the gods of Caido in his lifetime. "I... was reminded of my many failures tonight," he said instead, opening his eyes to the shape of Rory's face next to his on the pillow. The room was dark enough that he could see only the vague outline of his lover's features and the faintest glint of reflected starlight from eyes that lost their color in the shadows. "Berated for being a martyr, and reminded of my full portion of guilt for the things I have done... and the ones I couldn't stop from happening." He sighed, letting his eyes close again rather than shift them to his fox's sight. What mattered more was Rory's warm skin against his and the scent of him so close at hand. Jigano's pride was already in tatters, and he abandoned it completely to shift against to the hunter, seeking a closer embrace.
"I... did not realize how close I was to breaking," he admitted softly, reluctant even now to admit his weakness, even to the one he loved. "Trying to hold up the weight of this world and the ghosts of my old one. Not until it happened."
And yet it was Rory speaking the words; quiet and gentle, honest and kind. In all of Caido, Jigano trusted him more than any other, and if he said not to worry... well, it was not so easy to do, but the bard nodded silently against the other man's back, determined to at least try and not let that one extra portion of guilt settle onto his already-heavy heart.
He hesitated at the sigh, unsure what it meant even after so many nights spent together. He didn't tense, but there was a sense of waiting in his body until Rory turned over, and then Jigano let out his held breath with relief that needed no voice. He kept his arm curled over his partner's waist as he repositioned, finding comfort in the contact, and when a gentle thumb stroked across his cheeks and fingers slid through his hair he closed his eyes, tilting his head a fraction into the contact. From such small things he took strength.
Did he want to talk about it? Yes, for Rory deserved to know. And... no, because he did not want to admit that he had been to a Shrine, knowing that the farmer had received short shrift from the gods of Caido in his lifetime. "I... was reminded of my many failures tonight," he said instead, opening his eyes to the shape of Rory's face next to his on the pillow. The room was dark enough that he could see only the vague outline of his lover's features and the faintest glint of reflected starlight from eyes that lost their color in the shadows. "Berated for being a martyr, and reminded of my full portion of guilt for the things I have done... and the ones I couldn't stop from happening." He sighed, letting his eyes close again rather than shift them to his fox's sight. What mattered more was Rory's warm skin against his and the scent of him so close at hand. Jigano's pride was already in tatters, and he abandoned it completely to shift against to the hunter, seeking a closer embrace.
"I... did not realize how close I was to breaking," he admitted softly, reluctant even now to admit his weakness, even to the one he loved. "Trying to hold up the weight of this world and the ghosts of my old one. Not until it happened."
