IC contact for wethelost

[devoutish]

Solomons & Melborn
1108 Sweet Cream Street

[Feel free to use this space for letter/package deliveries as well as visits/knocks on the front door!]

Comments

[devoutish]

Oh, it's all right, I suppose. Can't get the trees right. I can show you.

[bywolves]

[ Royce shifts in his chair enough to make room for Alfie to come sit, if he wants. He also gestures for Alfie to move to him. Royce can't draw worth a damn, so he won't be much help, but. ]

[devoutish]

[The sketchbook is surprisingly full, considering he's only had it for about a month. He opens it up to a page with a lake scene on it and settles down in the chair next to Royce. It's not bad, but he's right about the more close-up trees being a little wobbly-looking, and he clearly struggles a bit with getting the perspective right.]

You've got something on your mind.

[It's a statement, not a question, but it's a gentle one.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce reaches to trace his fingers over the sketch. It's not terrible, but he definitely can see it doesn't look quite right. He couldn't tell Alfie what's wrong or how to fix it, though. That seems to be a general trend. ]

I always do, these days. [ He says, after a moment. He keeps his eyes on the sketch, voice soft. ] I feel heavy, as usual. Hard to explain.

[devoutish]

[He nuzzles his nose lightly into Royce's cheek.]

Can you try?

[bywolves]

I have tried, in the past. [ He sighs, closing his eyes. ] I need - I need you to just be able to feel it, because I don't have words for it.

[devoutish]

Do you want me to?

[They haven't done it yet, and haven't even really talked about it, but that option is there for them now, thanks to their recent wish to Zephyr.]

[bywolves]

[ He takes a deep breath, and then, uncertain: ] Yes, but I'm nervous.

[devoutish]

About?

[bywolves]

Being - being that close.

[devoutish]

Mm.

I suppose it wouldn't help if I went first, then.

[bywolves]

[ He hesitates. ]

You mean you let me feel what you're feeling first?

[devoutish]

Yeah.

[But it'd still be the same level of closeness, even if the focus would be different.]

[bywolves]

[ Yeah, but - there's a little bit of distance, there. He shifts slightly, and then shakes his head. ]

If I feel what you're feeling first, you won't be able to feel - this. [ He puts a hand on his chest, rubbing at his sternum a little. ] It'll throw everything off. I just have to do it.

[devoutish]

You don't have to.

[Alfie squeezes his shoulder.]

You can, and I will gladly accept it, mate, but you do not have to. Eh?

[bywolves]

[ He nods, and then glances at Alfie. ]

I want to. It just makes me nervous to - to offer so much up. It's intense. And I doubt you'll think differently of me. I know that logically. It's just very... big.

I don't want you to think I'm forcing myself.

[devoutish]

If you promise me that you're not, then I'll trust you.

[bywolves]

I promise. [ It's genuine. Alfie's known him long enough to know. ]

[devoutish]

Okay.

[He sets his sketchbook aside, leaning his shoulder into Royce's.]

You wanna talk about it more first?

[bywolves]

[ He thinks about it for a moment, and then reaches to take Alfie's hand. ]

Do you?

[devoutish]

I don't know the details of what's going on in your head right now, mate.

[He curls his fingers around Royce's.]

I wouldn't know where to start.

[bywolves]

That's why I think this is important to do. [ Royce says, resting his head on Alfie's shoulder, now. ] I don't know where to start, either. But if you feel what I do, we can figure it out.

[devoutish]

All right.

[A beat.]

Yeah, all right. Go on, then.

[bywolves]

[ Royce holds Alfie's hand tightly, and opens himself up to letting Alfie feel how Royce feels.

There's a lot, at once. He's relaxed, because he's sitting with Alfie, because it's a relief to be here, but he's nervous, too. The nerves curl around and cover most of his emotion, sparking here and there. But most of all, it's... heaviness. It's a sad, weighty feeling, like a rock at the bottom of his stomach. He's not on the verge of crying, but the sensation, the dread and fright and anxiety all balled up into a tiny, tight ball that feels ready to explode at any second - it's stuck, between his lungs and up into his throat. It burns and it makes him feel sick, if he focuses on it. It's longing and wanting, a need for a solution he can't find. Loss.

It's intense. In fact, it might be startling to Alfie, considering how calm Royce is on the outside. It'd make a man less accustomed to horror and trauma scream. ]

[devoutish]

[It doesn't make Alfie scream, but it does make him shiver. He braces himself against the chair with his free hand and squeezes Royce's fingers tightly with the other, hoping that it comes across more as trying to give support than trying to take it.]

Okay.

[He whispers, trying to keep his breathing steady.]

Okay.