[I think you already are, Ryn murmurs, and he finds himself thinking of weeks and conversations past, of how they've gone from comfort offered in the form of I won't look at you if you don't want me to to cuddled tight together in the restorative waters of the onsen, bare as their namedays. From I don't want sweet nothings from anyone to unthinking pet names to deliberate endearments that aren't pushed away. From dreading the remains of a too-long and too-lonely existence to daring to consider a "what comes after".
It would be enough, he'd just offered a moment before, and for a moment beyond that, he thinks, ...wouldn't it?
Slowly, he turns his head a fraction, angling it to show off the silver ring pierced through the left lobe. It's less sore now than it was when they'd done it, but still fresh enough that he sometimes finds the new weight of it in his ear unusual.]
For days, I've been thinking of this as your claim on me. Was I wrong...?
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It would be enough, he'd just offered a moment before, and for a moment beyond that, he thinks, ...wouldn't it?
Slowly, he turns his head a fraction, angling it to show off the silver ring pierced through the left lobe. It's less sore now than it was when they'd done it, but still fresh enough that he sometimes finds the new weight of it in his ear unusual.]
For days, I've been thinking of this as your claim on me. Was I wrong...?