Rufus had seen that conflict in Tseng's eyes before not that long ago. It had been a request made in a moment of weakness but he says nothing as Tseng's finger traces the cut on his cheek.
He doesn't look at the swelling on his wrist or care about how his fingers are starting to feel numb. His eyes never leave Tseng's as he wraps black hair around his fingers, sitting up slightly. He knew he couldn't assuage that conflict in him even if he said he forgave him.
Instead, he just leans up to press his lips against Tseng's, hand moving to the back of his neck to pull him down closer to him.
The kiss is too much. He feels it like the song that glass makes when it is on the verge of breaking, and what is threatening to break free within him, he cannot let loose. It feels too good, too right, too comforting, it feels like his breath catching in his throat, his body on the verge of shuddering.
"No," he says, pushing Rufus down. One more quit hit of that Full-Cure materia, to Rufus's wrist this time. He's not even gentle about it—expedience is more important. He needs to be far from here as soon as possible.
Maybe he never should have come at all. His anger is twisted now, and he's not sure how to combat something that makes him want to cut and hurt and drop to his knees and cry all at once. He can bring himself to do none of those things, so his only option is to leave Rufus there, trying so hard not to look at him, to consider the consequences of leaving him like this. To slip out the door as if it means nothing when all it means is everything, everything he's always been and ever wanted for himself, left behind and all alone.
Rufus is too surprised to say anything when Tseng pushed him back, letting him work on his wrist. He's not sure how to react to the way Tseng isn't looking at him as he applied the materia. It would be stiff for a few days but at least he would be able to use it.
He says nothing as Tseng suddenly leaves the room, leaving him lying there on the bed alone. It makes something in his stomach twist hard and he feels the need to get off the bed and pull on his robe as quickly as possible, wrapping it tightly around himself. They had fought before but never like this, he had never pushed Tseng so far so recklessly. He climbs into bed once the lights are off, pulling the covers over himself to at least attempt to get some sleep.
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no subject
He doesn't look at the swelling on his wrist or care about how his fingers are starting to feel numb. His eyes never leave Tseng's as he wraps black hair around his fingers, sitting up slightly. He knew he couldn't assuage that conflict in him even if he said he forgave him.
Instead, he just leans up to press his lips against Tseng's, hand moving to the back of his neck to pull him down closer to him.
no subject
"No," he says, pushing Rufus down. One more quit hit of that Full-Cure materia, to Rufus's wrist this time. He's not even gentle about it—expedience is more important. He needs to be far from here as soon as possible.
Maybe he never should have come at all. His anger is twisted now, and he's not sure how to combat something that makes him want to cut and hurt and drop to his knees and cry all at once. He can bring himself to do none of those things, so his only option is to leave Rufus there, trying so hard not to look at him, to consider the consequences of leaving him like this. To slip out the door as if it means nothing when all it means is everything, everything he's always been and ever wanted for himself, left behind and all alone.
no subject
He says nothing as Tseng suddenly leaves the room, leaving him lying there on the bed alone. It makes something in his stomach twist hard and he feels the need to get off the bed and pull on his robe as quickly as possible, wrapping it tightly around himself. They had fought before but never like this, he had never pushed Tseng so far so recklessly. He climbs into bed once the lights are off, pulling the covers over himself to at least attempt to get some sleep.