[The weight of Lovecraft's hand on his knee doesn't go unnoticed. Char holds still, the tension running through him masked by the practiced steadiness of his posture. He hears the longing in Lovecraft's words, and though part of him aches to answer it, he knows he cannot.
What he can give, he will give. He has promised as much. But the one thing asked of him now — his heart — is not his to give away twice.]
To protect you from being bound, from being used against your will... that I can promise. I'll do everything in my power to see you free of such chains.
[His gaze holds steady, though there's a rare flicker of softness in it.]
But my heart... that already belongs elsewhere. I can't offer it in halves, and I won't cheapen what I've promised. Doing so would be a disservice to you as well.
[Even so, his hand shifts over Lovecraft's, a grounding gesture— not dismissal, but a steady reassurance that though he cannot belong in the way Lovecraft asks, he will not abandon him either.]
[The weight of the confession comes and goes. Lovecraft stares for for a moment, before closing his eyes.]
[He does not feel surprised, somehow. The man is a sunshine. He was not made for such things. Land and sea can't always meet.]
I understand.
[And his eyes open, a mild smile on his lips.]
I do not think I would want for your heart....regardless. [His want is different. Inhuman. Greedier. Even he understands that.] Who have you...given it to?
[His grip over Lovecraft's hand firms slightly, not possessive but resolute. There's no sense in dodging a question that cuts so directly to the heart of it. He's already admitted as much— he can't cheapen it now by hiding her name.]
Sika.
[One word, steady and unshaken. There's no apology in his tone, only the weight of certainty, an understanding that he might meet judgment but accepting the possibility of it all the same. His gaze holds Lovecraft's, not daring to look away.]
[Char doesn't stray from Lovecraft's touch. As ever, he finds it steadying— a grounding force that makes baring himself a little more tolerable. A monolith silently enduring the constant rollick of the waves.]
...Of course. What, in particular, did you have in mind?
[His soul... That heavy, worn thing? Char almost doubts its worth— scarred, fractured, burdened with failures. And yet, Lovecraft asks for it without hesitation, as though he has seen every crack in it and still finds value there. That thought stills him. If anyone could look into that abyss and not flinch, it would be Lovecraft.
For that reason alone, Char does not question it further. If Lovecraft will carry that weight, then he will entrust it— firm, resolute, as though sealing a pact.]
Take it, then. My soul is yours to bear. Guard it well.
Mm. I'll let Sika know, that way there is no misunderstanding.
[A piece of himself will always remain with Lovecraft for safekeeping, held like a treasure long buried beneath sand and silt, secure in the lightless dark. He shifts to return the gesture, lips pressed to Lovecraft's cheek. Hold onto this. It belongs to you now.]
To answer your question... yes. This is what I wanted to discuss, though I cleared my afternoon should anything be on your mind that you want to address.
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insistence) wrote2025-08-18 04:41 pm
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Then tell me what it is you desire. There are limits to what I can offer, but beyond that... I won't let you down.
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[He leans a little forward, hand drifting onto Nishi's knee.]
For you to...belong to me. If I am to belong to you.
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What he can give, he will give. He has promised as much. But the one thing asked of him now — his heart — is not his to give away twice.]
To protect you from being bound, from being used against your will... that I can promise. I'll do everything in my power to see you free of such chains.
[His gaze holds steady, though there's a rare flicker of softness in it.]
But my heart... that already belongs elsewhere. I can't offer it in halves, and I won't cheapen what I've promised. Doing so would be a disservice to you as well.
[Even so, his hand shifts over Lovecraft's, a grounding gesture— not dismissal, but a steady reassurance that though he cannot belong in the way Lovecraft asks, he will not abandon him either.]
no subject
[He does not feel surprised, somehow. The man is a sunshine. He was not made for such things. Land and sea can't always meet.]
I understand.
[And his eyes open, a mild smile on his lips.]
I do not think I would want for your heart....regardless. [His want is different. Inhuman. Greedier. Even he understands that.] Who have you...given it to?
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Sika.
[One word, steady and unshaken. There's no apology in his tone, only the weight of certainty, an understanding that he might meet judgment but accepting the possibility of it all the same. His gaze holds Lovecraft's, not daring to look away.]
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[Now that is a surprise. Sika. This mysterious figure, kept under thr thumb of Father.]
[His hand drifts up to cup Nishi by the cheek, lightly - a gentle gesture, but his gaze is firm.]
I see. [...Could he compete with...them? Probably not. They even removed the secret of what he is.] Will you be able to keep your...promise? Even so?
[...]
If Sika may have...your heart. You may promise me...something else.
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...Of course. What, in particular, did you have in mind?
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[A little exhale, leaning in. The world is so weary. Even this too, is...]
And. I don't know how. But. I want you to promise... your soul. If your heart is taken.
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For that reason alone, Char does not question it further. If Lovecraft will carry that weight, then he will entrust it— firm, resolute, as though sealing a pact.]
Take it, then. My soul is yours to bear. Guard it well.
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[Lovecraft instantly perks up, the previous firmness disappearing. How is he going to guarantee this? Who knows! But it sounds like a good deal.]
I'm...glad. Please let...Sika Madu...know. If you could.
[And a little pack to the cheek, smiling. Precious Nishi. For him to have.]
Was this...what you wanted to tell me? Or was there something else?
no subject
[A piece of himself will always remain with Lovecraft for safekeeping, held like a treasure long buried beneath sand and silt, secure in the lightless dark. He shifts to return the gesture, lips pressed to Lovecraft's cheek. Hold onto this. It belongs to you now.]
To answer your question... yes. This is what I wanted to discuss, though I cleared my afternoon should anything be on your mind that you want to address.