HALF-HEARTED

@voiivode || “syke I don’t entirely enjoy religion either lmao”

        In that case we ought to go by the new shops and distract ourselves with wholesome, good food to try out.          And if it’s bad, we’ll shade it in Gaelic 

       Oh, you needn’t worry for that, for surely some other things occupy you more than any such minor threats as small as an unpleasant smell

        Can’t see any sins before my eyes when they are kept away from the ugly nature Ahmen

     There’s no sin here my love 

ECHOES || @dollxcage

                  “Precisely.” Roberto sighs–a heavy sound, hardly disguising its few sour notes of indignation as he slaps the files lightly down upon the table at rest between them. He frowns. Not meaning to, not in a position to temper it. His brow pinches and his blue eyes crease, and his hands spread earnestly before himself as he blinks back to his as of yet nameless companion. “That’s what we’re here to get to the bottom of. But the intel we’ve been given hasn’t been so much of use as it has been leading us around by the nose. Dates not matching up, stories from persons of interest clashing in all the wrong ways. Seems someone–or a few someones–is determined to throw us off the scent. No big surprise there, I guess. This place isn’t exactly marvelled for its pristine reputation.”

                  It’s never a place with a pristine reputation they wind up in, he’s discovered; every supposedly benevolent miracle yields a far uglier story to be told. He should be tired of that kind of nonsense by now. All that surprises him is that he isn’t.

             That - that is one of the countless things he’s always loved so ardently about him; even when dismayed, bemused, Roberto can speak so effortlessly as that. And yet - yet not at all. Those former sentiments find themselves banished in lieu of something far more familiar with him, far more endearing - encroaching and beseeching a hand it’s grasp. Such a thing, for the first time, is found to be too much. It is decimating to touch him in moments as these, albeit horrific more not to. For the wile, to shift partially in seat and face him, gathering that hand up and bringing it to his face. To kiss his knuckles and press them against his damp brow. A sighing. A prayer for guidance he does not hush unto whispers, but speaks aloud in that Heavenly tongue. Sufficient enough to aid his heart in it’s quieting; enough, just enough to lower the hand down.                 “We’ve both been misled, Roberto; in many lives I’ve seen the dawn and breaking of man. However, please, know that the work you and your partner hold is sacred, vastly important beyond what I am allowed to say, and so, so special; it is holy work, true, wondrous things that will not ever be tarnished by misgivings and misguidance. The both of you are shrouded by many.” At that, finally, he breathes a pause. A moment’s reprieve before continuing. Before daring to continue. “Where… where do I even begin?” There’s so much uncertainty reflected towards those blue, deep blue seas. He always knew him to be a softer, kinder soul - but reading his heart has done nothing but soften Josef more for Roberto’s sake.                   “…what would you like to know first?”

                   “I guess we have been.” Roberto’s laughter is wistful and the faintest bit sad, rising in his throat as a gentle swoon of sound that widens his meagre smile--brightens the soft blue of his eyes. Misled--ah, now there’s a word for it indeed. Life has been almost nothing but mistakes and misleading directions until the present, where it has all finally begun to make sense. And seeing Josef here and somewhat in the flesh again makes all missing pieces fit slowly into place. The priest hums, then takes back that borrowed hand to ruffle the dark spray of curls crowning the angels’ head. “But you seem pretty sure now that we’re on the path that was intended for us after all. Even for all my misgivings, I’ve thanked God so many times that my life brought me to Hiraga in the end.” How his heart soars at even the thought of him--how his heart soars too with Josef’s kind, persuasive certainty. “And that we have triumphed so many times so that we might keep doing this work.”

                 Well. He knows there is at least one angel making sure of it now. The reality of that thought is both surprising and not, wonderful and surreal, and the compulsion to touch and assure himself of this reality is almost too much to bear. Proves itself too much, as Roberto’s hand can’t help its wandering along Josef’s shoulder. Chasing folds in the fabric, or the broad arch of bone beneath as his old friend poses quite the question indeed. “What to ask...I really wish I knew. There’s almost too much. More than I could think to ask at all, really.”

             “Have faith, dear heart; I never said they must know of it being by our hands, or else handled in quieter ways as that.” Roberto is ever more the charming presence when laughter makes of him a rumbling thunder, wide-spread and soothing to his person. “To ensure the betterment of human life, and to ensure better literature for your appetite; I couldn’t see not proceeding with it, Roberto; no matter the means. Are we not the background influences, after all? That which remains in shadows.” 

               Nothing else but laughter suits his own, between laying more of his dark, dark head against that heartening vibration and tossing the device down on the table. He’s right - the wine and company alike would waste if he put much more vigor into this misbehavior. “Is that an invitation? And here, I thought thy wine to be the best offered to me,” making light of what’s left to his own glass, sliding over and laying with arms folded across the Lycan’s breasts. “-but you too wish me my teeth to gnash thy bread?” Though he’s entirely content simply as is, running index and middle along the curves of Roberto’s chin. 

                “Hiraga...you say that as though we aren’t regularly in hot water with the archbishop for all our meddling as it is. Hardly a promising stage at the ready for us to go undercover to bring justice to the education system, is it?” A yawning sigh as either arm stretches briefly over head. But no doubt in a hurry to return themselves to Hiraga’s silhouette upon their hasty descent. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t about to consider it though. To prevent more tripe like that being written if nothing else...” How good it is to laugh. And laugh, Roberto almost uncontrollably does--the heady timbre of his voice reverberates endlessly with the force of his mirth as one strong hand combs its fond and lazy way through the scientist’s dusk-black hair.

                 “Oh, don’t you play coy with me. There’s always more to your visits than just the wine.”A ‘tsk’, playfully scolding and accompanying the gentle pinch to the tip of the other man’s nose that waves that pretty face to and fro. At least, until a dramatic frown furrows Roberto’s brow once a certain thought seems to come to him out of the blue. “Unless...you’ve been stringing me along with an elaborate ruse all this time just to get into my bottles of good red!” Scandalous! And an utterly comedic concept that has him grinning wide enough to start an ache in either cheek.