[Haku's lips are soft against his neck, so unlike the fingers of his captors, which pressed harshly with the intent to harm. Anything to break Eiri, anything to get him to talk. Pain is usually a good catalyst. The average person usually has enough self-preservation to do what they can to avoid it.
But Eiri knows pain. How could he not when he's bled on Death's doorstep on too many occasions? Bled and pressed up against the door, but never granted entrance for whatever reason. He knows pain, but it still isn't something he much likes.
Their fingers and their hands had pressed against his esophagus, cutting off his air supply for short bursts, enough to cause discomfort and set his heart racing, his body nearly panicking. His body didn't want to die, regardless of how incapable it seemed to be of dying, anyway. But even though Haku follows a similar trail with his lips, Eiri only feels goodness. Haku harbors no ill-content toward him, just a desire to help. Eiri can feel it in the gentle way those lips brush over his skin, especially the bruised areas.
He can feel the concern when Haku's hold tightens. He can hear the worry in his words. Eiri's fingers...
His heart begins to race. He already knows his hand is in terrible shape. He knew it the moment those bastards had taken his hand in theirs, even before they cracked his fingers.
One.
By.
One.
Even as Eiri shakes his head in answer to the question, he can still hear the echoes of breaking bones bounce around in his head. His hand. Ruined so quickly. He wants to ignore it, focus on the way Haku wraps his arm so protectively around him. Eiri tightens his hold on Haku's hand. At least he can still do that much.]
[ It's very telling that Eiri doesn't answer out loud. Eiri is always talking, he's always so loud and so present because of it. His Messiah has always been so full of sound and life - the only other time he can think he saw Eiri close to this is after he got shot by Higayama, lying there in coma in the infirmary bed, so silent with his eyes closed and hooked up to various machines letting out soft beeps.
Eiri seemed smaller than usually back then, and right now it's the same as Haku stares down at the Messiah lying in his arms. Eiri is hurt and broken, but not irreversably so. He'll heal. He'll become more like himself again. If there's anything Haku believes in, it's Eiri's undeniable mental strength. ]
They'll fix it. [ The words are soft, but hopefully at least a little bit reassuring. Because he knows it's true. Haku has been here for too long, and on afternoons that were just too long and lonely when he was younger, he sometimes hung around the infirmary, seeing people being brought into the room in various stages of disarray. If someone couldn't be fixed anymore, they wouldn't bother to bring them back, Haku learned later on.
After lingering close to the other, his breath softly on Eiri's skin, he lets out a small chuckle bordering on self-depreciation. ]
.. sorry. I'm pretty selfish, keeping you here like this. [ But on the other hand, since Eiri's mental state is like this, it was probably much better for him to wake up in Haku's arms than in a clinical place like that.
Not that it means he can't do something more than just sitting here with the other in his lap. Giving Eiri's good hand a reassuring squeeze, Haku starts to shift a little, trying to move out from under the other without shifting all his broken bones and touching his bruises once more. He's gotten surprisingly used to it, considering how often they end up like this. (Right now, he doesn't want to think too much about how it could all be because of him that Eiri has to endure so much bad luck and pain.)
With another reassuring squeeze and locking eyes with Eiri for a moment, as if to tell him that he's not going anywhere despite leaving the other lying there for a moment, Haku gets off the bed and wanders through the room for a few moments, like he's looking for something.
It takes a few moments, but then Haku returns to the bed once more, pouring some water onto a washcloth. A moment later he's already hovering over the other on hands and knees (making very sure to not touch Eiri's sides, as sore as they might be) and gently pressing it against the other's busted lips, cleaning up the dried up blood that had gathered up over time.
Even like this, even under him like this.. Eiri still looks smaller than usually, huh. But his Messiah doesn't need more sadness now. Haku knows it. If he's too sad, then Eiri will just try to take care of him again, and right now it's more important if he focuses on himself instead. It's always a little harder when it involves Eiri - he just doesn't deal well with those things -, but he manages to pull that mask he's worn so often on again. It's alright. It's alright, it's alright..
Just clear your head. Just return to the usual casual jokes. ]
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But Eiri knows pain. How could he not when he's bled on Death's doorstep on too many occasions? Bled and pressed up against the door, but never granted entrance for whatever reason. He knows pain, but it still isn't something he much likes.
Their fingers and their hands had pressed against his esophagus, cutting off his air supply for short bursts, enough to cause discomfort and set his heart racing, his body nearly panicking. His body didn't want to die, regardless of how incapable it seemed to be of dying, anyway. But even though Haku follows a similar trail with his lips, Eiri only feels goodness. Haku harbors no ill-content toward him, just a desire to help. Eiri can feel it in the gentle way those lips brush over his skin, especially the bruised areas.
He can feel the concern when Haku's hold tightens. He can hear the worry in his words. Eiri's fingers...
His heart begins to race. He already knows his hand is in terrible shape. He knew it the moment those bastards had taken his hand in theirs, even before they cracked his fingers.
One.
By.
One.
Even as Eiri shakes his head in answer to the question, he can still hear the echoes of breaking bones bounce around in his head. His hand. Ruined so quickly. He wants to ignore it, focus on the way Haku wraps his arm so protectively around him. Eiri tightens his hold on Haku's hand. At least he can still do that much.]
no subject
Eiri seemed smaller than usually back then, and right now it's the same as Haku stares down at the Messiah lying in his arms. Eiri is hurt and broken, but not irreversably so. He'll heal. He'll become more like himself again. If there's anything Haku believes in, it's Eiri's undeniable mental strength. ]
They'll fix it. [ The words are soft, but hopefully at least a little bit reassuring. Because he knows it's true. Haku has been here for too long, and on afternoons that were just too long and lonely when he was younger, he sometimes hung around the infirmary, seeing people being brought into the room in various stages of disarray. If someone couldn't be fixed anymore, they wouldn't bother to bring them back, Haku learned later on.
After lingering close to the other, his breath softly on Eiri's skin, he lets out a small chuckle bordering on self-depreciation. ]
.. sorry. I'm pretty selfish, keeping you here like this. [ But on the other hand, since Eiri's mental state is like this, it was probably much better for him to wake up in Haku's arms than in a clinical place like that.
Not that it means he can't do something more than just sitting here with the other in his lap. Giving Eiri's good hand a reassuring squeeze, Haku starts to shift a little, trying to move out from under the other without shifting all his broken bones and touching his bruises once more. He's gotten surprisingly used to it, considering how often they end up like this. (Right now, he doesn't want to think too much about how it could all be because of him that Eiri has to endure so much bad luck and pain.)
With another reassuring squeeze and locking eyes with Eiri for a moment, as if to tell him that he's not going anywhere despite leaving the other lying there for a moment, Haku gets off the bed and wanders through the room for a few moments, like he's looking for something.
It takes a few moments, but then Haku returns to the bed once more, pouring some water onto a washcloth. A moment later he's already hovering over the other on hands and knees (making very sure to not touch Eiri's sides, as sore as they might be) and gently pressing it against the other's busted lips, cleaning up the dried up blood that had gathered up over time.
Even like this, even under him like this.. Eiri still looks smaller than usually, huh. But his Messiah doesn't need more sadness now. Haku knows it. If he's too sad, then Eiri will just try to take care of him again, and right now it's more important if he focuses on himself instead. It's always a little harder when it involves Eiri - he just doesn't deal well with those things -, but he manages to pull that mask he's worn so often on again. It's alright. It's alright, it's alright..
Just clear your head. Just return to the usual casual jokes. ]
Oh, or was my lap more comfortable?