[ Deep breath. Finally. Finally, he manages, and when he does, his white-knuckled grip over his mouth eases up, and slides down off his face. It takes him a minute to speak, and when he does, he's hoarse, leftover scared. ]
It - it reminded me. [ He doesn't explain, but he thinks Alfie might understand. ]
Don't be. [ Royce says, after another moment, reaching up to rub at his face, at his eyes. This is different, he thinks. It feels different than before, because it feels at all. He's scared and upset, but Alfie's comforting, too. It's not just desolate, hopeless, numbness. ] I didn't hurt you, did I?
[ Royce curls in close, resting his head against Alfie's shoulder, bringing his arm up to wrap tightly around Alfie's shoulder, his neck, just breathing. ]
Fuck. [ He says finally, voice breaking, and he almost laughs with it, a shivery, upset curse that just - gets at how he feels, he thinks. ]
[ He's crying, he thinks - but it's not sobs, and it's almost not something he can stop. It's nothing dramatic, either. In fact, it's almost relieved. His shoulders tremble every so often, and his breath is a little shaky and wet, but... he's okay. It feels better to feel it.
To let it drain out, and not stuff it down. Quietly: ]
I'm glad you weren't there the first time. [ With the torture. ] I can't - tell you how glad. I - mar's sake, I'm scared, I -- I forgot.
I know you care about me. And I know that you know it's hard for me to... to care as deeply as I do about anything as much as I do you. [ He swallows hard. ] And how hard it is to say out loud.
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