qinsen

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— 3.7k words

— dr ratio/aventurine

— ratio on grief, and loss

heed the tags!

link: archiveofourown.org/works/85501026

"Veritas," a familiar voice rang out, tantalisingly close. "Won't you open your eyes?"

Ratio blinked open, and felt pinpricks of tears along the corner of his eyes.

Vibrant pink and teal (not red, why would they be red?) eyes greeted his vision, full of life and mirth (of course, as they would be, why would they not?), curved upwards in a all-too-familiar smile on an all-too-familiar face.

"It's you," Ratio whispered, swallowing around the lump of emotions in his throat; sharp and prickling. "It's really you?"

Aventurine blinked, before laughing, loud and amused (and how he ached to hear it again, selfishly), before brushing a hand carelessly across Ratio's eyes.

"Of course it's me," Aventurine tucked a loose strand of hair behind Ratio's ear, his fingertips brushing against the shell. "Why wouldn't it be?"

below the cut as usual!