[ The light blue glow of his eyes does not flicker through the analysis of yellow. His gaze does not falter, a testament to Kaspar's soft and caring brand of strength. Not the type he was ever appreciated for back home, though they both know he holds the physical kind as well. He smiles at the initial response.
In his ignorance, Kaspar had meant the mistake didn't cost Trahearne this refuge, the peace they've both found and nurtured here. That no matter the mistake, existence in the present matters. But he also knows a chord once struck. Especially with the distress and the tightening of that cool grip. He does the same once Trahearne's head finds the crook of his neck. Kaspar starts to stroke the back of it gently again. He leans his head just so, to rest against the other man's. His strength lends his embrace weight, protective and as warm as the tapered and muscular torso Trahearne has looped and tightened his arms around.
What had he longed for most, and never recieved, after waking up from the horrors of the tunnels? Being held, finding sleep in the innocent warmth of someone --or his lonely imaginings of it. Unlike the cold and unfeeling dark. If there is a long enough silence, Kaspar is comfortable in it. It is a warm embrace of Trahearne whole; mistakes and imperfections, weaknesses and vulnerabilities. And also of the man he is now, no matter what happened for him to be here with Kaspar in the moonlight.
If Trahearne says nothing still, Kaspar eventually will. Because he is willing to stand here until he passes out, but he'd longed for his bed before finding Trahearne out here. ]
🐛🌲🌳🌌🌠🌌🌳🌲🐛
In his ignorance, Kaspar had meant the mistake didn't cost Trahearne this refuge, the peace they've both found and nurtured here. That no matter the mistake, existence in the present matters. But he also knows a chord once struck. Especially with the distress and the tightening of that cool grip. He does the same once Trahearne's head finds the crook of his neck. Kaspar starts to stroke the back of it gently again. He leans his head just so, to rest against the other man's. His strength lends his embrace weight, protective and as warm as the tapered and muscular torso Trahearne has looped and tightened his arms around.
What had he longed for most, and never recieved, after waking up from the horrors of the tunnels? Being held, finding sleep in the innocent warmth of someone --or his lonely imaginings of it. Unlike the cold and unfeeling dark. If there is a long enough silence, Kaspar is comfortable in it. It is a warm embrace of Trahearne whole; mistakes and imperfections, weaknesses and vulnerabilities. And also of the man he is now, no matter what happened for him to be here with Kaspar in the moonlight.
If Trahearne says nothing still, Kaspar eventually will. Because he is willing to stand here until he passes out, but he'd longed for his bed before finding Trahearne out here. ]