Lord Chris Sonom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chrisisofaith) wrote2020-08-20 12:31 pm
chrisisofaith) wrote2020-08-20 12:31 pm
IC Contact
UN: ravens
You've reached Chris Sonom, previously of Melvaunt Deismyr, please leave a message.
Retreating. Clam up. Hawke felt like he'd been pulling away and his eyes falling on that knot in the tree past his friend sends a jolt through him. Like watching Jon crumble in on himself while Chris tries to clutch at the pieces so he can put his Archivist back together. Like that leaden fear in his core each time he sees Jon pulling away from him, that this time Chris won't be able to pull him back. That he'll lose him.
His eyes close tight a moment to stave off the burning. Maybe Amelia wasn't entirely wrong.
Slowly, his hand comes up to wrap around Hawke's arm before he can pull it away. He needed to give him something. Beyond anything else, Hawke was his best friend...his party member. He'd spent more time without those supports than with them, they were still relatively recent in comparison, but it was like night and day. Did he really want to go back to those times when he only really had himself? That had been a very lonely time.
His fingers dig a little tighter in Hawke's arm. "You aren't going to lose me, Wolfe. I'm just...I'm still not sure what I need. Or how I should go about this. What everyone else needs of me to make this easy to get past. To not let them win something, even with them gone."
His eyes close tight a moment to stave off the burning. Maybe Amelia wasn't entirely wrong.
Slowly, his hand comes up to wrap around Hawke's arm before he can pull it away. He needed to give him something. Beyond anything else, Hawke was his best friend...his party member. He'd spent more time without those supports than with them, they were still relatively recent in comparison, but it was like night and day. Did he really want to go back to those times when he only really had himself? That had been a very lonely time.
His fingers dig a little tighter in Hawke's arm. "You aren't going to lose me, Wolfe. I'm just...I'm still not sure what I need. Or how I should go about this. What everyone else needs of me to make this easy to get past. To not let them win something, even with them gone."
There's an eddy of guilt in the wash of relief that runs through Hawke at that slow grip of Chris' hand. The dig of his friend's fingers into his arm is welcome and Hawke can't help but hold him tighter in an encompassing hug not unlike the same he'd given the night before. "I know... I'm sorry, I know."
There's a stinging at the corners of his eyes but he staunchly ignores it, swallowing down what he's feeling before it drowns him. "We can figure it out. And until then, don't worry about anyone else getting past this. You're not king here, your concern doesn't have to be your subjects. We'll sort ourselves out, and if we can help you do the, or at least show you we're here to catch you as you try, then that's enough."
He tucks Chris in against his chest, mostly so he can wrap around him in a bulwark against the ghosts of men who no longer can touch Chris but try still, but a little so his friend doesn't see the few tears that escape his tightly closed eyes. He takes a deep breath, putting that away for now. It's not helpful. It's not useful. And it's not easy, either, for the tremble he can't help behind the breath as he forces himself to be still.
"We'll figure it out. You don't have to do it alone." His voice, at least, is certain. Asserting reality into the shape it should be where Chris can heal.
There's a stinging at the corners of his eyes but he staunchly ignores it, swallowing down what he's feeling before it drowns him. "We can figure it out. And until then, don't worry about anyone else getting past this. You're not king here, your concern doesn't have to be your subjects. We'll sort ourselves out, and if we can help you do the, or at least show you we're here to catch you as you try, then that's enough."
He tucks Chris in against his chest, mostly so he can wrap around him in a bulwark against the ghosts of men who no longer can touch Chris but try still, but a little so his friend doesn't see the few tears that escape his tightly closed eyes. He takes a deep breath, putting that away for now. It's not helpful. It's not useful. And it's not easy, either, for the tremble he can't help behind the breath as he forces himself to be still.
"We'll figure it out. You don't have to do it alone." His voice, at least, is certain. Asserting reality into the shape it should be where Chris can heal.
Hawke wraps around him like a shield and he can feel the urge to crumble into it, but he can't. Or maybe he simply doesn't want to, not because it's Hawke, but because he doesn't want to fall apart. He's better than that. Maybe he isn't king, but that doesn't make him less the person who's meant to be. Once upon a time, he'd been in this city, wondering if he could truly be the person who lead a city. He's not sure he ever got the answer to that question, but maybe it was time he did.
It's the deeper breaths and the soft tone and the tightness of Hawke's hold mixed with the realization he's already had that confirms for him what his friend needs right now and that's a direction to work in.
He pushes lightly at Hawke, expecting him to pull back enough for Chris to stand and take Wolfe's wrist. "Come inside with me. I'll lay out on the couch and you'll lay beside me so your head is against my chest while I hold you." He offers a small smile, the tiredness still at his eyes, but less forced this time. "Perhaps I'm not a king, but I'm a cleric. I'm the healer for those I know and love and I'll not lose that place while I have it. So-" His smile ticks up higher at one corner. "-healer's orders, Hawke."
It's the deeper breaths and the soft tone and the tightness of Hawke's hold mixed with the realization he's already had that confirms for him what his friend needs right now and that's a direction to work in.
He pushes lightly at Hawke, expecting him to pull back enough for Chris to stand and take Wolfe's wrist. "Come inside with me. I'll lay out on the couch and you'll lay beside me so your head is against my chest while I hold you." He offers a small smile, the tiredness still at his eyes, but less forced this time. "Perhaps I'm not a king, but I'm a cleric. I'm the healer for those I know and love and I'll not lose that place while I have it. So-" His smile ticks up higher at one corner. "-healer's orders, Hawke."
She exhales a relieved breath at his touch, understanding and appreciating the concern in it. If she'd sent a message along the way, she would have broken completely and not made it to him. This lie, an omission at best for how careful she was getting here, will have to stand for now. He'll have an apology for it soon enough.
Her feet take her inside and she toes out of her boots without much thought to it. She retrieves the tea from the bag on her shoulder first, offering it to him before making her way to the couch to set the bag down for him to find as his mind allows.
"How are your bruises this morning?” An easier question than others, one with an objective answer. "Have you eaten anything yet?"
She's filling the space, not wanting to let silence settle. If it's quiet for too long, more uncomfortable subjects may come up, and she's not ready for that to happen yet.
Her feet take her inside and she toes out of her boots without much thought to it. She retrieves the tea from the bag on her shoulder first, offering it to him before making her way to the couch to set the bag down for him to find as his mind allows.
"How are your bruises this morning?” An easier question than others, one with an objective answer. "Have you eaten anything yet?"
She's filling the space, not wanting to let silence settle. If it's quiet for too long, more uncomfortable subjects may come up, and she's not ready for that to happen yet.
There's a nagging sensation at the back of Hawke's mind that this isn't how this is backwards. He should be the one holding Chris. He should be the protector, the stalwart, the breakwater. He also should be able to do that with a smile and a steady hand but somewhere along the way his dynamic with Chris became different. Or maybe it always has been.
It's not a matter of him always giving, of only taking satisfaction in the care he offers and feeling weak for needing it back. He and Chris have near always been shoulder to shoulder from the beginning, leaning on one another in give and take alike. Friends. Comrades. Companions in a way that even some of his closest back home couldn't manage. He's what he chooses to be; reliable, helpful, a solid foundation there. Even Varric, even Anders, who arguably know him best, he can't crumble to. He'd only managed it outside of Thedas, and even then he'd hated how it made him feel when Anders looked at him and saw the cracks no matter how much he loved his healer reached to sooth them.
It feels similar here. Chris, who has so much of his own healing to do, reaching out and making room for him in a way that doesn't feel like a pittance but still makes his stomach twist unkindly that he's somehow forced this. But it's different than Anders, isn't it? He doesn't like that he's making the comparison at all, really. They're entirely different people.
He doesn't need to protect Chris. He wants to, but he doesn't need to. What protection and care Chris accepts he offers back in kind because he wants to, not because it's his calling or because he's terrified he'll lose what little care he's gathered for himself. There was always a fear in Anders, that even as he pushed Hawke away he never did so with force. He would tell him he should leave and hold him tightly in the same motion. Maybe it was starting to abate when Hawke had vanished, maybe he'd stood on his feet without Hawke and been better for it.
Maybe it's his fear, then. And not Anders' at all. A fear that he'll be a burden instead of a savior. Just another thing to worry about among hundreds.
He looks at Chris, having stepped back and allowed his wrist to be taken. Chris is not Anders. Chris is...
Not more. Not less, either. Chris is Chris. He's different. His needs are not Anders' needs and he doesn't have to protect him in order to prove that he will. That he wants to. He doesn't have to because Chris already knows and accepts that and isn't going to push him away out of a deluded idea of it being for his own good.
A soft sigh escapes him, some of the tension leaving him even if there's plenty more working it's way through him. That's for later consideration. Now he will nod, he will put his arm over Chris' shoulders and walk with him from the cold into the warm house, and arrange them perhaps not exactly as Chris laid them out. Not his head on Chris' chest, but on his shoulder, and the cleric's head on his too. Comfortable and able to see eye to eye.
"Better?"
It's not a matter of him always giving, of only taking satisfaction in the care he offers and feeling weak for needing it back. He and Chris have near always been shoulder to shoulder from the beginning, leaning on one another in give and take alike. Friends. Comrades. Companions in a way that even some of his closest back home couldn't manage. He's what he chooses to be; reliable, helpful, a solid foundation there. Even Varric, even Anders, who arguably know him best, he can't crumble to. He'd only managed it outside of Thedas, and even then he'd hated how it made him feel when Anders looked at him and saw the cracks no matter how much he loved his healer reached to sooth them.
It feels similar here. Chris, who has so much of his own healing to do, reaching out and making room for him in a way that doesn't feel like a pittance but still makes his stomach twist unkindly that he's somehow forced this. But it's different than Anders, isn't it? He doesn't like that he's making the comparison at all, really. They're entirely different people.
He doesn't need to protect Chris. He wants to, but he doesn't need to. What protection and care Chris accepts he offers back in kind because he wants to, not because it's his calling or because he's terrified he'll lose what little care he's gathered for himself. There was always a fear in Anders, that even as he pushed Hawke away he never did so with force. He would tell him he should leave and hold him tightly in the same motion. Maybe it was starting to abate when Hawke had vanished, maybe he'd stood on his feet without Hawke and been better for it.
Maybe it's his fear, then. And not Anders' at all. A fear that he'll be a burden instead of a savior. Just another thing to worry about among hundreds.
He looks at Chris, having stepped back and allowed his wrist to be taken. Chris is not Anders. Chris is...
Not more. Not less, either. Chris is Chris. He's different. His needs are not Anders' needs and he doesn't have to protect him in order to prove that he will. That he wants to. He doesn't have to because Chris already knows and accepts that and isn't going to push him away out of a deluded idea of it being for his own good.
A soft sigh escapes him, some of the tension leaving him even if there's plenty more working it's way through him. That's for later consideration. Now he will nod, he will put his arm over Chris' shoulders and walk with him from the cold into the warm house, and arrange them perhaps not exactly as Chris laid them out. Not his head on Chris' chest, but on his shoulder, and the cleric's head on his too. Comfortable and able to see eye to eye.
"Better?"
So long as he can curl his arms about the other man, it's what he's after. Hawke made himself into a shield and Chris aims to be something softer, something for comfort to support the waver he picked up on in his friend.
He gives a small nod to the question while he lets his thoughts drift over to whatever he needed next. Maybe the obvious was the best place to start. "I know you're upset too. I'm not pointing it out to pull away from me or what I'm feeling, more pointing out that...if it were me, I'd be upset for the person I cared for. It'll help me to feel I'm doing something more than being...doted upon if I can help those carrying their own pain." Like the pit, in a way. Even if they weren't there, they hurt for his hurting just as they'd be happy for his happiness.
And maybe, on a selfish level, he can feel like he can take his pieces apart and shake them out if it didn't feel like those supporting him were holding onto themselves too tightly. Maybe.
He gives a small nod to the question while he lets his thoughts drift over to whatever he needed next. Maybe the obvious was the best place to start. "I know you're upset too. I'm not pointing it out to pull away from me or what I'm feeling, more pointing out that...if it were me, I'd be upset for the person I cared for. It'll help me to feel I'm doing something more than being...doted upon if I can help those carrying their own pain." Like the pit, in a way. Even if they weren't there, they hurt for his hurting just as they'd be happy for his happiness.
And maybe, on a selfish level, he can feel like he can take his pieces apart and shake them out if it didn't feel like those supporting him were holding onto themselves too tightly. Maybe.
"Alright," he replied in a soft rumble. That eases more in him too, the understanding that he's just worried for Chris and so Chris worries for him and it becomes a cycle they have to consciously break. A knot they've found the ends to. "I know the feeling."
He reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from Chris' face. "I told Martin similar, after the Pit. There's something healing in caring for others, even if their focus is on you. It's alright for it to be, so long as it's for help and not to bury things under the needs of someone else."
There's nothing accusing in his explaination, just a quiet acknowledgement that he understands and he'll help in that way if that's what Chris needs. "I'm alright. Or rather, I will be. I've already done what I can apart from anything you want of me."
There's a steely edge that comes over him at the mention of having done what he can do, but it passes quickly and he has no need to dredge it back again unless Chris wants to know the particulars.
He reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair from Chris' face. "I told Martin similar, after the Pit. There's something healing in caring for others, even if their focus is on you. It's alright for it to be, so long as it's for help and not to bury things under the needs of someone else."
There's nothing accusing in his explaination, just a quiet acknowledgement that he understands and he'll help in that way if that's what Chris needs. "I'm alright. Or rather, I will be. I've already done what I can apart from anything you want of me."
There's a steely edge that comes over him at the mention of having done what he can do, but it passes quickly and he has no need to dredge it back again unless Chris wants to know the particulars.
He takes the tea with curiosity, though it slowly turns muted again as the relief and adrenaline fade. The motions of making a pot are easy as Amelia's fussing kicks up again. It's easier after this morning than any of it yesterday, at least. Even if he's still...unsure of himself. He feels okay with her right now.
"I made breakfast for Jacob earlier and ate some of it." A couple bites. He just hasn't been hungry. "I'd direct you to make some toast for us, but I know better."
He offers a small smirk before returning his attention to the tea.
"My magic's returned. I've some lingering soreness, but the visible bruises are gone." He pauses and reaches for mugs. "How's your hand?"
"I made breakfast for Jacob earlier and ate some of it." A couple bites. He just hasn't been hungry. "I'd direct you to make some toast for us, but I know better."
He offers a small smirk before returning his attention to the tea.
"My magic's returned. I've some lingering soreness, but the visible bruises are gone." He pauses and reaches for mugs. "How's your hand?"
It's a simple blend, very floral in nature, green with jasmine and lavender. She has a feeling she might be the only one who enjoys it, but she figured he'd feel better if she picked something she actually liked. She certainly won't mind if he sends it home with her.
"If you have the machine set for it, I'm certain I could manage that," she jokes. Though she does still worry about how well that might go, given the tales of woe she's heard about toasters.
Her smile is a little tense at the edges as she makes her way back to him, Cinder's cream in her hands. "Nothing worse than I've done to myself. Shower softened everything before bed last night." In more ways than expected, but that's not for Chris to hear. She forces herself to take a breath and holds out the jar to him.
"If this'll help, I want to put my hands to use. There's not much else I can do but listen." She huffs a laugh. "Which I don't mind doing, but I'll not push again like I did this morning. I'm... I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry."
"If you have the machine set for it, I'm certain I could manage that," she jokes. Though she does still worry about how well that might go, given the tales of woe she's heard about toasters.
Her smile is a little tense at the edges as she makes her way back to him, Cinder's cream in her hands. "Nothing worse than I've done to myself. Shower softened everything before bed last night." In more ways than expected, but that's not for Chris to hear. She forces herself to take a breath and holds out the jar to him.
"If this'll help, I want to put my hands to use. There's not much else I can do but listen." She huffs a laugh. "Which I don't mind doing, but I'll not push again like I did this morning. I'm... I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry."
Chris' fingers find Hawke's hair as well and trace down along his cheek to his jaw as green eyes follow the path. There's some guilt in him for the familiar action now. He should talk to Hawke about that too, clear the air if Amelia's wrong or let him know Chris knows if she's right. She shouldn't have spoken for him, he stands by that, but it's done now. If she was right, Hawke had his reasons for not telling Chris himself.
"Right now...I...I think I just need time. It's been a day. I can't sort my head that quickly without other things factoring in, asking me what I need now's..." he bites his lip and looks down to Hawke's beard instead. "It's too much. I might not know for a long while or ever...but if I do, I'll come to you. I promise." So maybe just patience.
"I'm worried for you and Amelia and your safety, but that'll pass with time and no consequences. I'd not have asked you to do that...but I'm selfishly glad you did." He looks back to Wolfe's ice-blue gaze as his hand moves back to run through the mage's hair again. "I do feel safer knowing I'll not happen across them."
"Right now...I...I think I just need time. It's been a day. I can't sort my head that quickly without other things factoring in, asking me what I need now's..." he bites his lip and looks down to Hawke's beard instead. "It's too much. I might not know for a long while or ever...but if I do, I'll come to you. I promise." So maybe just patience.
"I'm worried for you and Amelia and your safety, but that'll pass with time and no consequences. I'd not have asked you to do that...but I'm selfishly glad you did." He looks back to Wolfe's ice-blue gaze as his hand moves back to run through the mage's hair again. "I do feel safer knowing I'll not happen across them."
He watches Chris watching him, a little furrow between fair eyebrows, that searching look that he'd expect to be turned inward right now but instead is searching him for something he's not finding. The words don't match that look either, but he's not sure if he should ask.
"We'll be fine, we were very careful. Masks and cloaks, silent as cats, and cleaned up after. No evidence." He snags Chris' fingers in his and brings his knuckles against his lips, barely kissing so much as just putting a bit of familiar pressure there. "Even if something comes of it, it will have been worth it."
His free hand he puts around Chris' back, shifting to be nearer, still thinking on that searching look and the emotion under it. Familiar, though not on Chris' face.
Guilt.
With a soft breath, he reaches to smooth the crease between Chris' brows. "None of that. You've nothing to be sorry for."
"We'll be fine, we were very careful. Masks and cloaks, silent as cats, and cleaned up after. No evidence." He snags Chris' fingers in his and brings his knuckles against his lips, barely kissing so much as just putting a bit of familiar pressure there. "Even if something comes of it, it will have been worth it."
His free hand he puts around Chris' back, shifting to be nearer, still thinking on that searching look and the emotion under it. Familiar, though not on Chris' face.
Guilt.
With a soft breath, he reaches to smooth the crease between Chris' brows. "None of that. You've nothing to be sorry for."
The tea might be a little more delicate than he typically likes, but it smells wonderful and that's half the appeal to the drink.
He looks up to the jar with a soft smile. "It'll help with the soreness and phantom pains. Thank you. Here. Tea needs some minutes to steep regardless, this shouldn't take long." It's something to do and a small buffer to keep them occupied so maybe words could be a little easier between them.
He steps around to her side of the counter and pulls the shirt from over his head to fold and set on one of the bar stools. "I think along my right side here and across my shoulders...if you'll be so kind." He gives a small beat of silence before his tone turns softer. "If it's not your hand and we've already settled this morning-" a pointed glance. '-then what's put a tenseness to your face, my lady?"
He looks up to the jar with a soft smile. "It'll help with the soreness and phantom pains. Thank you. Here. Tea needs some minutes to steep regardless, this shouldn't take long." It's something to do and a small buffer to keep them occupied so maybe words could be a little easier between them.
He steps around to her side of the counter and pulls the shirt from over his head to fold and set on one of the bar stools. "I think along my right side here and across my shoulders...if you'll be so kind." He gives a small beat of silence before his tone turns softer. "If it's not your hand and we've already settled this morning-" a pointed glance. '-then what's put a tenseness to your face, my lady?"
He's too kind to him. Too soft. But that's just Hawke. It's always been true. Soft enough to cut. His eyes close as Hawke's fingers trace over his skin. He can't know what was in Chris' thoughts, but there's an easy answer for that absurd assertion regardless.
His expression is more gentle resignation than reprimand as he shakes his head. "That's patently not true. I started the fight that turned off-hand words to actions. Their decisions were their own, but so were mine."
His expression is more gentle resignation than reprimand as he shakes his head. "That's patently not true. I started the fight that turned off-hand words to actions. Their decisions were their own, but so were mine."
She's quiet as she works, a forced smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes. When he looks to her, she doesn't look back. Her gaze remains fixed on the rest of him, a redness building in expressive hazel eyes as she tries to keep breathing through the tightening of her chest.
"It can wait," she murmurs, voice unsteady. "You've--" Her jaw tenses briefly until she's able to right herself. "There other things to think on. Forget this for a time."
She wants to lie again. She wants to tell him it's fine and that nothing is truly wrong. It's... better for Cinder to have gone home, to have a chance to see those things she knew were ahead of her through.
The truth doesn't stop her heart from breaking, though.
"It can wait," she murmurs, voice unsteady. "You've--" Her jaw tenses briefly until she's able to right herself. "There other things to think on. Forget this for a time."
She wants to lie again. She wants to tell him it's fine and that nothing is truly wrong. It's... better for Cinder to have gone home, to have a chance to see those things she knew were ahead of her through.
The truth doesn't stop her heart from breaking, though.
"Don't you dare," Hawke frowns, his voice a soft but firm warning. "If Jon's words that sparked this entire thing aren't something to be sorry for then neither are yours."
He takes a heavy breath, moving his hands to the sides of Chris's face, not forcing him to make eye contact but at least guiding his gaze in that direction. "It isn't your fault. You've done nothing wrong. We're all of us in a place that needs fought and you're at it tooth and nail. I hate that this happened to you but I am proud of you for not giving up."
He kisses him then, a fierce press to Chris' forehead because he can't kiss his mouth. He'd say something meant to be kind that would be so cruel in this moment. He won't put his feelings before Chris' right now, he won't let him worry over the mess of himself when there's plenty of other mess that can't be ignored.
He takes a heavy breath, moving his hands to the sides of Chris's face, not forcing him to make eye contact but at least guiding his gaze in that direction. "It isn't your fault. You've done nothing wrong. We're all of us in a place that needs fought and you're at it tooth and nail. I hate that this happened to you but I am proud of you for not giving up."
He kisses him then, a fierce press to Chris' forehead because he can't kiss his mouth. He'd say something meant to be kind that would be so cruel in this moment. He won't put his feelings before Chris' right now, he won't let him worry over the mess of himself when there's plenty of other mess that can't be ignored.
She's too quiet. Her smile doesn't quite fit her lips or reach her eyes. The waver in her breath, in her voice. She didn't stammer like that. A hundred red flags has Chris turning, focus snapping to razor sharp on her. One gentle hand takes her wrist and the other brushes a thumb very briefly by her jaw.
"Amelia...what's wrong? What's happened?" His thoughts race out to options even as his voice is achingly gentle. "Why were you late?"
"Amelia...what's wrong? What's happened?" His thoughts race out to options even as his voice is achingly gentle. "Why were you late?"
She doesn't look up. She can't. Not when it hurts so much. Instead she lets him pull her closer, leaning in to rest her temple against his cheek.
Dreams, this hurts. She feels ill even thinking about this.
"Cinder is gone. Sent home again." Her breaths are a little ragged at the end as she shuts her eyes. "I tried to message her, but it wouldn't go through."
Dreams, this hurts. She feels ill even thinking about this.
"Cinder is gone. Sent home again." Her breaths are a little ragged at the end as she shuts her eyes. "I tried to message her, but it wouldn't go through."
He wants to argue, even as Hawke's words make sense, there's still a seed of doubt and guilt in him, even if it quiets under that firm voice. Under the word proud. His eyes are closed tight before those lips even press to his forehead and the creases return to his brow as he squeezes them tighter.
He can't do this. Now it feels unfair. Like a lie he's keeping for no reason.
"Stop..." It comes out soft and more exposed than he'd been hoping, but his fingers fall to Hawke's shirt to curl tight in the fabric at his shoulder. "I...earlier, I said I made Amelia uncomfortable. I wasn't making it up or misunderstanding. She told me she was surprised." He takes a more thick breath and looks up again to meet Hawke's gaze.
"She told me something, I think, expecting I already knew. An assumption she had about-" the words catch and die in his throat and annoyance at himself has him look down once more. This is still too much...but unless Hawke was willing to leave and not come around for a few days, it wasn't going away easily either.
He can't do this. Now it feels unfair. Like a lie he's keeping for no reason.
"Stop..." It comes out soft and more exposed than he'd been hoping, but his fingers fall to Hawke's shirt to curl tight in the fabric at his shoulder. "I...earlier, I said I made Amelia uncomfortable. I wasn't making it up or misunderstanding. She told me she was surprised." He takes a more thick breath and looks up again to meet Hawke's gaze.
"She told me something, I think, expecting I already knew. An assumption she had about-" the words catch and die in his throat and annoyance at himself has him look down once more. This is still too much...but unless Hawke was willing to leave and not come around for a few days, it wasn't going away easily either.
His hand comes up to tangle his fingers in the hair at the base of her head as the other one lets go of her wrist to move to her shoulder instead.
"Oh." That's all he can get out at first. An urge to message her himself rips through him and he swallows it down as he grits his teeth through his next few breaths. When it rains...
He takes a brief, indulgent, moment to think on the last time he'd seen her, living it up at Hellboy and Harley's orgy. Nights of drinking with Hawke, all of their various adventures...he lets it run through him, lets it hurt until it threatens to open up too much he's kept locked down still...and then it gets locked up just as soundly.
"I'm sorry, lovely...I know you were close with her." He turns his face to press a kiss to her temple. "It's alright that it hurts. You're allowed."
"Oh." That's all he can get out at first. An urge to message her himself rips through him and he swallows it down as he grits his teeth through his next few breaths. When it rains...
He takes a brief, indulgent, moment to think on the last time he'd seen her, living it up at Hellboy and Harley's orgy. Nights of drinking with Hawke, all of their various adventures...he lets it run through him, lets it hurt until it threatens to open up too much he's kept locked down still...and then it gets locked up just as soundly.
"I'm sorry, lovely...I know you were close with her." He turns his face to press a kiss to her temple. "It's alright that it hurts. You're allowed."
She knows what he's doing, has done it so many times she couldn't begin to count them all, and she won't have it. She shakes her head just a little, barely daring to breathe as she wraps an arm around his waist in a loose hug.
"Not now. I can't yet." Not when she's here for him. Not when there's things to do and work at The Crucible later, and other people to tell and let cry, and--
"I can't." She doesn't let go, but she doesn't give in to the urge to sob as she wants. That's a want, and she... can't have that. Not now.
"Let me tell Wolfe, please. I--" Her breath catches a little at the idea of having to see his face when she breaks the news, but... "You've been through enough the past day and a half. I can catch him as he hears this."
"Not now. I can't yet." Not when she's here for him. Not when there's things to do and work at The Crucible later, and other people to tell and let cry, and--
"I can't." She doesn't let go, but she doesn't give in to the urge to sob as she wants. That's a want, and she... can't have that. Not now.
"Let me tell Wolfe, please. I--" Her breath catches a little at the idea of having to see his face when she breaks the news, but... "You've been through enough the past day and a half. I can catch him as he hears this."
Fingers in his shirt and a plea to stop that sounds so achingly vulnerable has Hawke going still, thinking he's gone too far. This isn't new for him, his care being too much. A light so bright he's blinding, something Anders had maybe not said outright but hinted at. He'd overwhelmed Alaric more than once too, his empathic abilities ratcheting it all up to the point that Hawke had started attempting to pull it back just to keep from making his boyfriend uncomfortable. But how do you pull back on feeling something that you don't want to put aside? That's supposed to be good?
He's still asking that question even now, and thanking the Maker, Andraste, even the Raven Queen that Chris is no empath no matter how good he is at making Wolfe feel that he's transparent as glass.
At Amelia's name Hawke shifts a little in concern. He'd been addled last night, certainly, but he doesn't regret what they'd done and he doesn't think she does either unless she's suddenly a lot better at hiding her emotions. They'd parted this morning with a kiss and a promise to meet again later, her going off to bring Chris his things and Hawke... Well, he'd fallen back asleep for another hour before rushing out to send Jon a statement. As far as he knows nothing was wrong. She would tell him, wouldn't she? He'd want her to tell him if something was amiss.
"About what?" He urges softly, a gentle push. If he can't say then Hawke can always corner Amelia later.
He's still asking that question even now, and thanking the Maker, Andraste, even the Raven Queen that Chris is no empath no matter how good he is at making Wolfe feel that he's transparent as glass.
At Amelia's name Hawke shifts a little in concern. He'd been addled last night, certainly, but he doesn't regret what they'd done and he doesn't think she does either unless she's suddenly a lot better at hiding her emotions. They'd parted this morning with a kiss and a promise to meet again later, her going off to bring Chris his things and Hawke... Well, he'd fallen back asleep for another hour before rushing out to send Jon a statement. As far as he knows nothing was wrong. She would tell him, wouldn't she? He'd want her to tell him if something was amiss.
"About what?" He urges softly, a gentle push. If he can't say then Hawke can always corner Amelia later.
Chris counts to five and then looks back to Hawke. The least he could do was look in his friend’s eyes. Besides, it would be the best way to tell the validity of Amelia’s claim for himself.
“She saw our greeting and assumed we were together romantically. It startled her enough that she shut down other emotions to spare processing it.” Which still left…something in him, even if she claimed it would be fine. He was less sure.
But that’s not all of it. “She also insisted to me that your feelings ran deeper than you’ve admitted to..”
“She saw our greeting and assumed we were together romantically. It startled her enough that she shut down other emotions to spare processing it.” Which still left…something in him, even if she claimed it would be fine. He was less sure.
But that’s not all of it. “She also insisted to me that your feelings ran deeper than you’ve admitted to..”
For a long moment Hawke just stares, his hands still and eyes unblinking. His mind empties hurriedly of all thought, heart in his throat suddenly. She didn't know. He doesn't think he told her so she didn't know and saw it anyway because he'd been vulnerable, his heart aching, and Andraste's pyre he'd kissed Chris like that in front of Amelia. That's the piece he'd been missing, what he felt all last night he'd had to make up to her but couldn't quite place what or why.
Fuck.
They're alright, or they will be. They'd set expectations at first already but he'd not intended to be quite so... So... Jarring when their relationship was so new. Actually he hadnt ever intended to say or do anything at all with what he's harboring for Chris. He's decided he's happy if he can continue to just be as they are, more than friends, less than a relationship, but still intrinsically valued and cared for. It's enough.
It would have been enough.
Fuck.
And right now of all times, too?
Fuck!
His gaze skitters away from Chris, a bit pale and shame-faced, like he's been caught doing something he aught not.
"It's not anything we have to talk about." Now or ever.
Fuck.
They're alright, or they will be. They'd set expectations at first already but he'd not intended to be quite so... So... Jarring when their relationship was so new. Actually he hadnt ever intended to say or do anything at all with what he's harboring for Chris. He's decided he's happy if he can continue to just be as they are, more than friends, less than a relationship, but still intrinsically valued and cared for. It's enough.
It would have been enough.
Fuck.
And right now of all times, too?
Fuck!
His gaze skitters away from Chris, a bit pale and shame-faced, like he's been caught doing something he aught not.
"It's not anything we have to talk about." Now or ever.
Chris watches him, his processing, the slow realization dawning and then the shame that trickles in.
He blinks and moves to sit up. “Alright.”
Then maybe it was nothing after all. Hawke tangling love and safety and release. Maybe simply a crush he’s attempting to chase away. If it was nothing, he’d simply deny it. If it was something, he wouldn’t run from it.
He runs a hand back through his hair, thoughts everywhere and nowhere as he’s torn between acceptance and…disappointment. This really is too much.
He blinks and moves to sit up. “Alright.”
Then maybe it was nothing after all. Hawke tangling love and safety and release. Maybe simply a crush he’s attempting to chase away. If it was nothing, he’d simply deny it. If it was something, he wouldn’t run from it.
He runs a hand back through his hair, thoughts everywhere and nowhere as he’s torn between acceptance and…disappointment. This really is too much.
Chris pulls away and Hawke nearly grabs for him, nearly clings like a child. As it is he lets out a very undignified bereft noise that's small and strangled in his throat. He can't do this, he's fit to burst, but he can't pile more onto Chris either. Not now, not with... Everything. He doesn't feel the same way so this is only going to hurt but maybe to get past it they should talk. Or maybe not now, but...
"I meant now." Hawke sits up too, putting his feet flat on the floor and swallowing his guilt and his terror and everything else down in order to speak plainly. "I meant... We shouldn't talk about it now, not with- with everything. You're dealing with enough that you don't need to add my fool heart to it. It can wait. It's not important right now."
He forces himself to look over at Chris, giving a wan smile. He can wait to have the hard conversation. He can wait indefinitely if it means he can still love as strongly and as freely for a little while longer, until Chris inevitably tells him that's not what he wants. He'll be gentle as he can be, Hawke's sure, but still no.
"I meant now." Hawke sits up too, putting his feet flat on the floor and swallowing his guilt and his terror and everything else down in order to speak plainly. "I meant... We shouldn't talk about it now, not with- with everything. You're dealing with enough that you don't need to add my fool heart to it. It can wait. It's not important right now."
He forces himself to look over at Chris, giving a wan smile. He can wait to have the hard conversation. He can wait indefinitely if it means he can still love as strongly and as freely for a little while longer, until Chris inevitably tells him that's not what he wants. He'll be gentle as he can be, Hawke's sure, but still no.
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