[YOU SAY GAY AND THEN WRITE THIS GAY-ASS TAG HELLO
Once he's lying down, Kanda closes his eyes, intending to meditate instead of sleeping. It's the best of both worlds, he reasons; this way, he can rest his mind without sacrificing any alertness. Even if he can't sink into a full meditative trance, it won't matter, since this wasn't planned anyway.
Normally, he doesn't like to do this with other people around. Lavi has always been a complicated sort of exception. There are times when he's absorbed in his books, or his records, or even just his moodier thoughts, when he's quiet and still and Kanda's awareness flows around him, like a stream parting around a steady rock. Other times, he is impossible to ignore. On purpose, yes, when Lavi's in the mood for mischief--but even when he's quiet, there are days where his presence is simply impossible to ignore.
(Kanda has never told him this, and has no intention of ever doing so. Lavi doesn't need more turmoil over the space he takes up in the world.)
This, right now, is somewhere between the two. Even with his eyes closed, Kanda finds himself very much aware of Lavi beside him--he feels Lavi shift and turn, and he senses the way Lavi's gaze lingers on him. Kanda can't pretend he's not there even before he moves close enough to touch. But this time, it's comforting, not distracting. It's a reminder that their efforts worked, that they are both alive and whole for now--that one way or another, this nightmare is almost over. No more monsters that they don't know how to handle. No more torturous trips rife with faces from their memories. Finally, finally, no more distance.
They might meet their end tomorrow, but at least they'll be able to face it together.
Lavi thinks I missed this, and Kanda's thoughts don't respond--but they don't have to. This closeness is proof enough that he did, too.
He's still until Lavi says his name; at the sound of it, he opens his eyes again, turning his head to meet Lavi's gaze. Whether he knew Lavi wanted that, or simply wanted the same thing--his thoughts don't betray that either.
Lavi waits patiently, but it turns out he doesn't have to wait at all, because Kanda is already looking back at him. Kanda is looking at him with his usual serious, dark-eyed gaze, and it turns out hearts can flutter and jump and do all those things the books say they can just by meeting someone's eyes? Woah.
If asked, Lavi would say he's many things, but he's not a romantic. He can pretend to be a romantic, yes, and he can see the romance in other people's lives, but he's never been very interested in the subject. Curious, yes -- because what is Lavi not curious about -- but it's never possessed him the way love is supposed to, apparently. It was never a great sacrifice to be made, a wondrous thing to give up. And now?
Kanda tells him to 'go to sleep', and maybe the great poets forgot to mention how insane love can be, because this simple sentence makes his cheeks flush and his chest thump and his stomach twist itself into a braid. Is this love or a stomachache? Lavi can only wonder, and then immediately pray that his thought goes unheard. He's not a romantic, but he doesn't want to be the complete opposite either. (He can be detached. He can be logical. Rational. But he doesn't want to be those things right now.)
What he should want is to sleep, so Lavi shuts his eye and tries to surrender himself to the darkness and quiet, tries not to think too much about how Kanda is right here next to him, and how apparently he doesn't hate Lavi as much as anyone should hate him. Or worse, think of him with the indifference that Lavi used to crave.
His thoughts tumble along, but eventually -- eventually -- they slow down at the same time Lavi's breathing does, emotions ebbing away as the tide of sleep claims him.]
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Once he's lying down, Kanda closes his eyes, intending to meditate instead of sleeping. It's the best of both worlds, he reasons; this way, he can rest his mind without sacrificing any alertness. Even if he can't sink into a full meditative trance, it won't matter, since this wasn't planned anyway.
Normally, he doesn't like to do this with other people around. Lavi has always been a complicated sort of exception. There are times when he's absorbed in his books, or his records, or even just his moodier thoughts, when he's quiet and still and Kanda's awareness flows around him, like a stream parting around a steady rock. Other times, he is impossible to ignore. On purpose, yes, when Lavi's in the mood for mischief--but even when he's quiet, there are days where his presence is simply impossible to ignore.
(Kanda has never told him this, and has no intention of ever doing so. Lavi doesn't need more turmoil over the space he takes up in the world.)
This, right now, is somewhere between the two. Even with his eyes closed, Kanda finds himself very much aware of Lavi beside him--he feels Lavi shift and turn, and he senses the way Lavi's gaze lingers on him. Kanda can't pretend he's not there even before he moves close enough to touch. But this time, it's comforting, not distracting. It's a reminder that their efforts worked, that they are both alive and whole for now--that one way or another, this nightmare is almost over. No more monsters that they don't know how to handle. No more torturous trips rife with faces from their memories. Finally, finally, no more distance.
They might meet their end tomorrow, but at least they'll be able to face it together.
Lavi thinks I missed this, and Kanda's thoughts don't respond--but they don't have to. This closeness is proof enough that he did, too.
He's still until Lavi says his name; at the sound of it, he opens his eyes again, turning his head to meet Lavi's gaze. Whether he knew Lavi wanted that, or simply wanted the same thing--his thoughts don't betray that either.
Quietly:]
Go to sleep.
no subject
Lavi waits patiently, but it turns out he doesn't have to wait at all, because Kanda is already looking back at him. Kanda is looking at him with his usual serious, dark-eyed gaze, and it turns out hearts can flutter and jump and do all those things the books say they can just by meeting someone's eyes? Woah.
If asked, Lavi would say he's many things, but he's not a romantic. He can pretend to be a romantic, yes, and he can see the romance in other people's lives, but he's never been very interested in the subject. Curious, yes -- because what is Lavi not curious about -- but it's never possessed him the way love is supposed to, apparently. It was never a great sacrifice to be made, a wondrous thing to give up. And now?
Kanda tells him to 'go to sleep', and maybe the great poets forgot to mention how insane love can be, because this simple sentence makes his cheeks flush and his chest thump and his stomach twist itself into a braid. Is this love or a stomachache? Lavi can only wonder, and then immediately pray that his thought goes unheard. He's not a romantic, but he doesn't want to be the complete opposite either. (He can be detached. He can be logical. Rational. But he doesn't want to be those things right now.)
What he should want is to sleep, so Lavi shuts his eye and tries to surrender himself to the darkness and quiet, tries not to think too much about how Kanda is right here next to him, and how apparently he doesn't hate Lavi as much as anyone should hate him. Or worse, think of him with the indifference that Lavi used to crave.
His thoughts tumble along, but eventually -- eventually -- they slow down at the same time Lavi's breathing does, emotions ebbing away as the tide of sleep claims him.]