Touch—
(Hands) Less dangerous than cupping someone's face in your hands, or stroking their cheek; less electrifying than the trail of fingers up your arm, but in this way—in this barely-acknowledged context—even as the brush of Jigano's thumb across his knuckles grounded him and assured him, it tasted of something long forgotten. Something long abandoned.
It was the simplicity of it, really: such a small, everyday thing, to more or less hold hands with someone. Somehow, it felt like more of a confession than kissing him would've.
And yet a niggling worry remained: what if it was just the relief talking? Of Rory being okay, alive, awake? Of Rory being alright with Jigano?
He had tried to look within himself for reasons to feel angry or slighted or disappointed, and he had found none.
The smile stretching across the almost-human face was intoxicating. Radiant. Beautiful. More refined than the goofy expression he had come to know upon the pale fox's face, for foxes were not made to smile in a way that preserved their dignity.
But the pain put an end to it. Rory knew that what he ought to do was just be silent and still and probably just go back to sleep and sleep this wretched night off, but with Jigano sitting on his bed, how could he? Besides, he had just woken up, and although the trials he had been put through would take their toll on him, he'd be capable of being awake another couple of hours at least.
He wanted to check on Amalia, too, wait for her to wake up, to see that she was alright, if she needed anything.
But for now his mind spun with thoughts of Jigano and Torch and Numeria, a place he had been told was unpleasant and yet he longed for it like he longed for sunlight.
He twisted his fingers into Jigano's.
He watched as the fox produced another human smile, a shake of his head, some sort of reassurance that he was alright, that being stolen mid-step from his world wasn't as bad as all that, and Rory found himself pressing X to doubt. A slight frown wrinkled his forehead and brows, and tentatively he bit the inside of his lower lip. To call Jigano out on it, or not? Surely there was some aspect of it that had been terrifying and painful? Someone he missed, hadn't said goodbye to? Even a man who had lost everything still had something, even if it was a pony, or a dog, or a .. pet snake .. favorite walking stick, a view they cherished .. anything.
But then he looked up again, eyes soft and sad, ears back in an expression Rory knew all too well. Rory met his eyes, the frown smoothing out, and had his shoulders not been injured he would've reached out again, to run his palm and thumb over Jigano's cheek, to.. what? Reassure him? But whatever he had left behind, Rory could not replace. He could just be .. new.
"Yes," he finally said, softly, and the pain in his voice touched something in Rory's soul. The ones he couldn't save. He knew what it felt like, and his fingers tightened in response around Jigano's. He wanted to ask what had happened in Numeria, but he was afraid that it was too much, too soon, too deep into something Jigano might not be ready to trust him with. "So somehow a good thing," he murmured. A blank slate. A fresh page. What sort of situation had he been in, to almost be relieved he was spirited away from everything he had ever known? "A fresh start. Have.. have you found your place here?"
(Hands) Less dangerous than cupping someone's face in your hands, or stroking their cheek; less electrifying than the trail of fingers up your arm, but in this way—in this barely-acknowledged context—even as the brush of Jigano's thumb across his knuckles grounded him and assured him, it tasted of something long forgotten. Something long abandoned.
It was the simplicity of it, really: such a small, everyday thing, to more or less hold hands with someone. Somehow, it felt like more of a confession than kissing him would've.
And yet a niggling worry remained: what if it was just the relief talking? Of Rory being okay, alive, awake? Of Rory being alright with Jigano?
He had tried to look within himself for reasons to feel angry or slighted or disappointed, and he had found none.
The smile stretching across the almost-human face was intoxicating. Radiant. Beautiful. More refined than the goofy expression he had come to know upon the pale fox's face, for foxes were not made to smile in a way that preserved their dignity.
But the pain put an end to it. Rory knew that what he ought to do was just be silent and still and probably just go back to sleep and sleep this wretched night off, but with Jigano sitting on his bed, how could he? Besides, he had just woken up, and although the trials he had been put through would take their toll on him, he'd be capable of being awake another couple of hours at least.
He wanted to check on Amalia, too, wait for her to wake up, to see that she was alright, if she needed anything.
But for now his mind spun with thoughts of Jigano and Torch and Numeria, a place he had been told was unpleasant and yet he longed for it like he longed for sunlight.
He twisted his fingers into Jigano's.
He watched as the fox produced another human smile, a shake of his head, some sort of reassurance that he was alright, that being stolen mid-step from his world wasn't as bad as all that, and Rory found himself pressing X to doubt. A slight frown wrinkled his forehead and brows, and tentatively he bit the inside of his lower lip. To call Jigano out on it, or not? Surely there was some aspect of it that had been terrifying and painful? Someone he missed, hadn't said goodbye to? Even a man who had lost everything still had something, even if it was a pony, or a dog, or a .. pet snake .. favorite walking stick, a view they cherished .. anything.
But then he looked up again, eyes soft and sad, ears back in an expression Rory knew all too well. Rory met his eyes, the frown smoothing out, and had his shoulders not been injured he would've reached out again, to run his palm and thumb over Jigano's cheek, to.. what? Reassure him? But whatever he had left behind, Rory could not replace. He could just be .. new.
"Yes," he finally said, softly, and the pain in his voice touched something in Rory's soul. The ones he couldn't save. He knew what it felt like, and his fingers tightened in response around Jigano's. He wanted to ask what had happened in Numeria, but he was afraid that it was too much, too soon, too deep into something Jigano might not be ready to trust him with. "So somehow a good thing," he murmured. A blank slate. A fresh page. What sort of situation had he been in, to almost be relieved he was spirited away from everything he had ever known? "A fresh start. Have.. have you found your place here?"
