[Ventus is quiet, allowing Riku to speak and get his thoughts in order. They’ve never really talked about this, about what would happen if they fought against this bond forced upon them and what it could do to them. Ven accepted it with ease, though he knows Riku wouldn’t.
Still hasn’t.
They’ve never spoken in length about it, just that it’s there. It exists, so why bother talking about it? Except that they can feel each other, their emotions linked in a way that’s far too intimate that it might as well be linked to their hearts thesemlves. They’re both hurting in different ways and it’s hard to ignore that.
It’s why Ventus is watching Riku, studying him.
He wants to comfort him, to reach up and assure him that it’s fine, that it’s okay. But he can’t. Not this time. Not because he doesn’t want to, but that he can’t. Riku has always been an enigma to him, so quick in his doubts about himself and swimming so deep in his own self-loathing that Ventus isn’t sure if he could ever hope to reach out to him.
He wants to scream. He wants to yell, but anything he wants to say dies on his tongue or caught in his throat.
In a way, he can understand Vanitas now, and the mere idea of being alone is terrifying without his heart whole—not without Riku.
Eyes sliding shut, Ven eventually reaches up, his hand over Riku’s on his shoulder. The pain is there, stronger now to be felt, but he also focuses on the warmth that passes through them. His mark is soothed by the contact, the pain slowly easing, but he doesn’t say anything again. Unsure if Riku is willing to continue, he doesn't want to do anything that can set him back.
Ven can’t lose Riku. But perhaps Riku can afford to lose him?]
no subject
Still hasn’t.
They’ve never spoken in length about it, just that it’s there. It exists, so why bother talking about it? Except that they can feel each other, their emotions linked in a way that’s far too intimate that it might as well be linked to their hearts thesemlves. They’re both hurting in different ways and it’s hard to ignore that.
It’s why Ventus is watching Riku, studying him.
He wants to comfort him, to reach up and assure him that it’s fine, that it’s okay. But he can’t. Not this time. Not because he doesn’t want to, but that he can’t. Riku has always been an enigma to him, so quick in his doubts about himself and swimming so deep in his own self-loathing that Ventus isn’t sure if he could ever hope to reach out to him.
He wants to scream. He wants to yell, but anything he wants to say dies on his tongue or caught in his throat.
In a way, he can understand Vanitas now, and the mere idea of being alone is terrifying without his heart whole—not without Riku.
Eyes sliding shut, Ven eventually reaches up, his hand over Riku’s on his shoulder. The pain is there, stronger now to be felt, but he also focuses on the warmth that passes through them. His mark is soothed by the contact, the pain slowly easing, but he doesn’t say anything again. Unsure if Riku is willing to continue, he doesn't want to do anything that can set him back.
Ven can’t lose Riku. But perhaps Riku can afford to lose him?]