[ It's almost dizzying, the rush of emotions that crash over him as Nehan holds him and says the very words that he had longed to hear. Every single one of his insecurities had built themselves up, climbed their way into his head to sink into his unstable mind in an attempt to sweep his feet out from under him. He'd feared the worst because he's only known the worst, and it would have been just one more thing to swallow into the chasm of his rotten being.
He's questioned this final decision of his ever since returning. He can still feel his sister tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, crying that it wasn't fair that it was him and not her. But Aventurine had held fast to what had made him come to his choice in the first place, and he hears it now, out loud, from the source himself. ]
... Me too, [ he says, barely audible with how softly he whispers it. ] I want to live.
[ For this. For a thousand more moments like this. Aventurine understands, for the first time, why it is people are born. It's not just to die at the end of their journeys. It's to have a journey in the first place. It's to be able to experience what he's experiencing right now, a press of lips against his forehead and someone he deeply cares for telling him what he'd been too afraid to admit before. Too afraid to consider if he could deserve such a thing.
But with this, he'll live.
He reaches up with hands that no longer shake to cup Nehan's face carefully, like there's nothing else as precious as this. As highly sought-after, as valuable, or as cherished as this. He presses a single kiss against those lips, tender and affectionate, before pulling back with a request. ]
[ He's never had to convince anyone besides himself to live—the only person he'd still cared for before the cult was... happy. The kind of carefree soul that relished a new morning. It's always Nehan who's being pushed along, dragged, whether it's by a leash or fate or revenge or guilt.
So it's a strange, potent relief to hear that Aventurine wants to continue struggling. And it is a struggle, living, so he doesn't know what urges him on to encourage anyone else to try. Maybe it's fear. He doesn't want Aventurine to die again. Or maybe it's the... something, a feeling he hasn't put a name to, that buzzes through him with absolute conceit when he shuts his eyes and they kiss again without any biting and ribbing scattered throughout.
Or it's the disarming and baffling sweetness with how Aventurine handles him, like he's holding something of value. The way he says please instead of making demands. It's kindness and obvious affection. It makes him want to say yes, but he swallows thickly, something heavy and scratchy in his throat, crowding out any attempt at words.
He doesn't leave just yet, hooking the fingers of his weak, numb hand into Aventurine's shirt as he looks at some aimless spot between his neck and shoulder. When he can't figure out how to reject him, or spit out the words to even try—he looks torn for a second, then nods briefly, drawing back in to rest their heads together again, nuzzling in until he's comfortable.
He'll stay for now. They can be together for a while, at least. It's more than either of them usually gets. ]
[ Maybe this, too, was a gamble, but he's not supposed to be making those as often these days. So, he thinks of it instead as what it should be, a natural progression between two people who have come to rely on each other. It sounds simple that way, even plainly obvious, and it's so incredibly normal for the average person, but for someone like Aventurine who has rarely had the chance to create genuine relationships, it's uncharted territory.
It's new and exciting, a different kind of thrill-seeking that has him looking forward to each day while terrifying him at the same time. His own fingers curl around the front of Nehan's shirt, a small tremble to his hand and an old habit any time he's afraid. After all, who'd know better than Aventurine the obstacles they're likely to face in the coming days? What suffering they've yet to blindly run into?
But in the end, they're all obstacles to overcome, and he's overcome them before. He'll do it again.
Right now, what he chooses to focus on is the warmth that spreads in his chest at Nehan's nod, how the two of them curl back into each other as if this was always their destination. It takes his mind off of the pain and uncertainty, and he pulls Nehan down onto the bed with him until they're lying as comfortably as they can on this rather uncomfortable hospital bed.
He'll get some more rest. And like the other times he's spent sleeping next to Nehan, his sleep will be quiet and dreamless. ]
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no subject
He's questioned this final decision of his ever since returning. He can still feel his sister tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, crying that it wasn't fair that it was him and not her. But Aventurine had held fast to what had made him come to his choice in the first place, and he hears it now, out loud, from the source himself. ]
... Me too, [ he says, barely audible with how softly he whispers it. ] I want to live.
[ For this. For a thousand more moments like this. Aventurine understands, for the first time, why it is people are born. It's not just to die at the end of their journeys. It's to have a journey in the first place. It's to be able to experience what he's experiencing right now, a press of lips against his forehead and someone he deeply cares for telling him what he'd been too afraid to admit before. Too afraid to consider if he could deserve such a thing.
But with this, he'll live.
He reaches up with hands that no longer shake to cup Nehan's face carefully, like there's nothing else as precious as this. As highly sought-after, as valuable, or as cherished as this. He presses a single kiss against those lips, tender and affectionate, before pulling back with a request. ]
So please stay with me.
no subject
So it's a strange, potent relief to hear that Aventurine wants to continue struggling. And it is a struggle, living, so he doesn't know what urges him on to encourage anyone else to try. Maybe it's fear. He doesn't want Aventurine to die again. Or maybe it's the... something, a feeling he hasn't put a name to, that buzzes through him with absolute conceit when he shuts his eyes and they kiss again without any biting and ribbing scattered throughout.
Or it's the disarming and baffling sweetness with how Aventurine handles him, like he's holding something of value. The way he says please instead of making demands. It's kindness and obvious affection. It makes him want to say yes, but he swallows thickly, something heavy and scratchy in his throat, crowding out any attempt at words.
He doesn't leave just yet, hooking the fingers of his weak, numb hand into Aventurine's shirt as he looks at some aimless spot between his neck and shoulder. When he can't figure out how to reject him, or spit out the words to even try—he looks torn for a second, then nods briefly, drawing back in to rest their heads together again, nuzzling in until he's comfortable.
He'll stay for now. They can be together for a while, at least. It's more than either of them usually gets. ]
no subject
It's new and exciting, a different kind of thrill-seeking that has him looking forward to each day while terrifying him at the same time. His own fingers curl around the front of Nehan's shirt, a small tremble to his hand and an old habit any time he's afraid. After all, who'd know better than Aventurine the obstacles they're likely to face in the coming days? What suffering they've yet to blindly run into?
But in the end, they're all obstacles to overcome, and he's overcome them before. He'll do it again.
Right now, what he chooses to focus on is the warmth that spreads in his chest at Nehan's nod, how the two of them curl back into each other as if this was always their destination. It takes his mind off of the pain and uncertainty, and he pulls Nehan down onto the bed with him until they're lying as comfortably as they can on this rather uncomfortable hospital bed.
He'll get some more rest. And like the other times he's spent sleeping next to Nehan, his sleep will be quiet and dreamless. ]