（ the touch to his shoulder makes his entire body go rigid like he's braced for a blow.
but it's the the statement that's honest enough, and raw enough, that drags him out of the mire of his self-imposed shame. his attention flickers to her, and a furrowed brow expresses all the things he doesn't say in that moment. he's never really been good at hiding anguish in his darkest moments, and it — kills him a little that she's here and she's trying to be gentle to him, for him. that she's countering the physicality of his vulnerability with the verbal offering of her own.
he wants to touch her back so badly in that moment that he has to squeeze his fingers in tight against his palm until he can feel nails puncture skin. he doesn't realize he's bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood too until he tastes it. it's such a little hurt alongside the way he feels like his bones are molten on the inside, like he's standing within the radius of zanka no tachi as the old captain burns the world around him. ）
I don't know. （ he says it honestly. emotion is heavy in his voice — and it's audibly, identifiably fear — but it's not for himself. his gaze slants away from her again. ） I'll try.
（ he has the horrible, sinking suspicion that if they get anything started where they're at they're just going to stay on the floor, so he sort of scoots away from her awkwardly and pushes his back against the wall, feet braced, mostly using the wildly unsteady strength of his thighs as he forces himself upwards. normally, he'd give her a hand as well — but these aren't normal times. ）
Bed's clean. New sheets.
（ mostly because he's been a gross, sweaty, hypersensitive wreck for a couple days now and also he likes being tidy, so. ）
no subject
but it's the the statement that's honest enough, and raw enough, that drags him out of the mire of his self-imposed shame. his attention flickers to her, and a furrowed brow expresses all the things he doesn't say in that moment. he's never really been good at hiding anguish in his darkest moments, and it — kills him a little that she's here and she's trying to be gentle to him, for him. that she's countering the physicality of his vulnerability with the verbal offering of her own.
he wants to touch her back so badly in that moment that he has to squeeze his fingers in tight against his palm until he can feel nails puncture skin. he doesn't realize he's bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood too until he tastes it. it's such a little hurt alongside the way he feels like his bones are molten on the inside, like he's standing within the radius of zanka no tachi as the old captain burns the world around him. ）
I don't know. （ he says it honestly. emotion is heavy in his voice — and it's audibly, identifiably fear — but it's not for himself. his gaze slants away from her again. ） I'll try.
（ he has the horrible, sinking suspicion that if they get anything started where they're at they're just going to stay on the floor, so he sort of scoots away from her awkwardly and pushes his back against the wall, feet braced, mostly using the wildly unsteady strength of his thighs as he forces himself upwards. normally, he'd give her a hand as well — but these aren't normal times. ）
Bed's clean. New sheets.
（ mostly because he's been a gross, sweaty, hypersensitive wreck for a couple days now and also he likes being tidy, so. ）