Date: 2024-11-16 01:48 am (UTC)
holyposition: (deeeeep breath)
From: [personal profile] holyposition
[ Tim isn’t pulled into his arms so much as he falls into them, hardly standing upright as it is. Quentin’s seen him in rough states before – in the clinic the morning after they met, in the throes of wretched, tear-soaked heartache, bruised and jumping at shadows after the attempt on his life – but this awful numbness is something new. It’s more than just the cold from confining himself to the graveyard, but his very heart that’s missing, buried under the dirt outside. With nothing to pump his blood or fill his veins with life, it’s hard to feel much of anything at all, except for the yearning for that missing piece.

He stands limply against Quentin, nodding his understanding and closing his eyes, letting the survival instinct towards something warm do the work of raising his arms to embrace him back, loosely. The chilly tip of his nose nudges against his shoulder. ]


I’m okay.

[ Automatic, and completely untrue. Maybe it could be, if Quentin keeps rubbing like that, putting some small measure of heat back into him. ]

He’ll be alright, though? I can’t lose both of them.
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Tim Laughlin

February 2025

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