RORY
i told the stars about you
No, Remi's body seemed to say, fingers rubbing eyes that might just as well have got some annoying particle in them from the water trough, and then his hand fell anyway. His wet face glistened in the sunlight. His bright eyes opened.And yet the answer lingered unspoken. Rory's fingers twisted and twisted and twisted, a shout of concern in his silent language. Nothing of what had just transpired made sense, something about it just so off that his neurons were firing with worry and anxiety cramped in his gut.
Just the heat Remi finally said, and had Rory not cared, he would've relaxed, then; his eyes would've become bright and he would've said ah in understanding, and happily moved on to safer, less personal topics.
But Rory cared and it wasn't that warm anyway and he hadn't explicitly said yes, and Rory rolled the words in his mouth. They tasted of regret. Perhaps he should have assumed that he was allowed to care—to ask directly—to keep reaching back for that hand he had shied away from the first day they had met. He was unconvinced by the smile, trampled beneath Remi's change of subject, his face a complicated thing as he once more glanced at the goat. She ought to get started soon.
"You are never an intruder," he finally said, slow and thoughtful, clamping his knees around his restless hands to keep them from fidgeting so. "And of course. I'm just glad to see you. I..." I don't believe you? It seemed cruel, almost, but he thought of the man sketching by the barrier, by the Spire, and how he seemed decades older now.
"Are you sure, though? That you're alright?" Well fuck, the straightest way over the fence was to jump across it. His voice was low and hesitant, but the concern in his eyes sincere; he had given Remi an out, and Remi had taken it, but why? Would he take this one too?
What was it that had changed between them? Was it Rory? Was it he who was so afraid of handling Remi and breaking him further that he treated him like fragile glass?
