[ it seems like an entire year ago when sora had took his hand and told him you have friends here with you. he didn't see it then, too caught up in holding on to that boundary that separated what memories were his and what were riku's, too focused on drawing that line in the sand. and now, it's like a slap to his face —
"i'm lucky to have found a good partner!" "you were never alone."
he wonders if it's too late now.
he doesn't stop his pace when he sees riku in the boat house, marching right up to him to grip a fistful of his shirt collar, forcing riku to look at him. something flashes in dawn's eyes, as brief as the lightning outside, and there's a set to his jaw that preludes to protest.
one heartbeat stretches to two and he takes a deep breath — and then sags against riku, fist still clenched in his shirt as his head drops onto his shoulder. ]
[ The dread of losing grips them both, but Riku has already made a decision. All his focus has been poured into this - that he'll go out and search for them, no matter what happens to him.
Because there's a point on the other side of caring, of loving someone so much that all other feelings fall away. A tranquil, steady place where there's no quarter given for doubt or fear, where he accepts what may come, just so that he can buy a minute that buys them an hour. Maybe that hour buys them a year, and that year a lifetime that had been stolen from them. ]
Dawn--
[ The satchel dangles from the hook of two fingers, he's pulled by his own shirt, and the hand fisted in it, but he feels it coming before Dawn sags against him and he understands how much he needs the steadying brace of the arm he puts around the replica's shoulders.
sora had taken his hand that day, and he'd foolishly let it go. ]
I'm going with you. [ he grips riku's back with his free hand, twisting the fabric between his fingers tight enough to leave lasting wrinkles in the material. his eyes burn behind his eyelids and he presses his face harder into riku's shoulder. ] I don't care what you say.
[ because he's two for two now, and if dying is all he's good for, then he may as well do it again for sora. ]
[ Permitting this could doom Dawn along with him. Riku suspects leaving him alone would be a doom more certain, knowing what loneliness does to them both. It's not some insignificant gesture, that Dawn leans into him, that he holds on and holds on tight and says he's coming, leaves him no room to argue.
They keep losing Kairi. No more, if Riku had to guess, that was probably the thought crowding out all the rest, the thing that would spur Sora into recklessly charging off into the dark. That he didn't want to lose her, not again.
Sora so easily insinuates himself into a person's heart, no matter what walls he puts up, whatever he dons as armor to protect the parts of him that are vulnerable. Dawn's not immune to Sora's talent for getting through to a heart, but the darker side of that coin is the fear of losing.
His palm covers over Dawn's nape, a tightening of his fingers is the sort of clasp he hopes is some comfort, then he shifts it to cup one of his shoulders. Riku doesn't bother telling him it'll be okay. ]
Grab whatever you think we'll need. The sooner we leave, the better.
no subject
"i'm lucky to have found a good partner!"
"you were never alone."
he wonders if it's too late now.
he doesn't stop his pace when he sees riku in the boat house, marching right up to him to grip a fistful of his shirt collar, forcing riku to look at him. something flashes in dawn's eyes, as brief as the lightning outside, and there's a set to his jaw that preludes to protest.
one heartbeat stretches to two and he takes a deep breath — and then sags against riku, fist still clenched in his shirt as his head drops onto his shoulder. ]
no subject
Because there's a point on the other side of caring, of loving someone so much that all other feelings fall away. A tranquil, steady place where there's no quarter given for doubt or fear, where he accepts what may come, just so that he can buy a minute that buys them an hour. Maybe that hour buys them a year, and that year a lifetime that had been stolen from them. ]
Dawn--
[ The satchel dangles from the hook of two fingers, he's pulled by his own shirt, and the hand fisted in it, but he feels it coming before Dawn sags against him and he understands how much he needs the steadying brace of the arm he puts around the replica's shoulders.
He knows because he would have needed it. ]
We'll find them.
no subject
sora had taken his hand that day, and he'd foolishly let it go. ]
I'm going with you. [ he grips riku's back with his free hand, twisting the fabric between his fingers tight enough to leave lasting wrinkles in the material. his eyes burn behind his eyelids and he presses his face harder into riku's shoulder. ] I don't care what you say.
[ because he's two for two now, and if dying is all he's good for, then he may as well do it again for sora. ]
no subject
They keep losing Kairi. No more, if Riku had to guess, that was probably the thought crowding out all the rest, the thing that would spur Sora into recklessly charging off into the dark. That he didn't want to lose her, not again.
Sora so easily insinuates himself into a person's heart, no matter what walls he puts up, whatever he dons as armor to protect the parts of him that are vulnerable. Dawn's not immune to Sora's talent for getting through to a heart, but the darker side of that coin is the fear of losing.
His palm covers over Dawn's nape, a tightening of his fingers is the sort of clasp he hopes is some comfort, then he shifts it to cup one of his shoulders. Riku doesn't bother telling him it'll be okay. ]
Grab whatever you think we'll need. The sooner we leave, the better.