Such a strange and wondrous thing, really, to have Jigano there in the dark: to have him there, to be able to run his fingers through that long, white hair, to have his cheeks to stroke tears from, to be able to get out of bed in the morning and watch him sleep in the early sunlight... It had almost become routine, getting up early to start his work around the farm but leaving a kettle with hot water simmering on the stove, so that Jigano could make himself some tea if he wanted to when he woke up...
Being awake in the middle of the night to stroke those tears from his cheeks was a small price to pay for the rest of it, and honestly, Rory wasn't sure he considered it a price to pay either. That made it sound like something that needed to be endured, some form of suffering, something bad.
Getting to be there for the ones you love wasn't a chore.
Yes, it could be rough, it could be heavy, it could take it's toll, but.. it wasn't a chore.
He watched Jigano in the lack of light, how his eyes opened and closed, the shape his mouth when he spoke. And when he shifted closer, Rory pulled him close, his hand tracing soothing motions over that strong, warm back. "Then stop trying," he murmured in the darkness, kissing the top of Jigano's head. "Or, more like, stop trying alone." It was the middle of the night, and he was not at his most eloquent, this was true. "I know you blame yourself for what happened in Numeria, you don't need to blame yourself for what's happening here too, we fucked up long before you came along," like, three hundred years ago and more.
"You're not alone in this, Jigano."
Being awake in the middle of the night to stroke those tears from his cheeks was a small price to pay for the rest of it, and honestly, Rory wasn't sure he considered it a price to pay either. That made it sound like something that needed to be endured, some form of suffering, something bad.
Getting to be there for the ones you love wasn't a chore.
Yes, it could be rough, it could be heavy, it could take it's toll, but.. it wasn't a chore.
He watched Jigano in the lack of light, how his eyes opened and closed, the shape his mouth when he spoke. And when he shifted closer, Rory pulled him close, his hand tracing soothing motions over that strong, warm back. "Then stop trying," he murmured in the darkness, kissing the top of Jigano's head. "Or, more like, stop trying alone." It was the middle of the night, and he was not at his most eloquent, this was true. "I know you blame yourself for what happened in Numeria, you don't need to blame yourself for what's happening here too, we fucked up long before you came along," like, three hundred years ago and more.
"You're not alone in this, Jigano."
