“Ha, well, there can always be an attempt, right? Although-- you know what-- Julio really should stop snooping around my office when he comes in to talk to me.” Feliciano sighed heavily as he halfheartedly stuffed his jacket in his wardrobe. “Because, really, he doesn’t have any privacy. Do you want some water? I’m kind of thirsty after that milkshake. Why do milkshakes make me thirsty? It’s like that word you used. ‘counterintuitive.’ Or, wait, is it ‘counterproductive?’” He laughed over a slight sigh, then whipped around to get a cup of water. “Anyways, back to Julio. Did you know he found your shorts in my--”
Feliciano caught himself before he could get any louder. “Asleep already?” he softly chided. “Geez, you must really not want to try my cooking, but I’ll forgive you this time.”
Moments after, he was battling his haphazardly tossed clothes gathered at the bottom of his wardrobe and finally managed to acquire two blankets: one to prop Luciano’s head up, the second was aired out over Luciano’s head and mistakenly covered the boy’s face.
Almost immediately, Feliciano felt his heart drop, and with a jerk, he pulled the blanket back and settled next to the boy carefully, fixing the ceiling with a blank stare.
It’s kind of lucky that Luciano doesn’t take up much space when he sleeps.
The thought was immediately shot down as soon as he remembered the events from earlier today. He bit his lip, sat up straight, and gave the back of his head a good smack.
Tenatively, shy, hazel eyes glanced up to the tousled, auburn-haired head resting on the blankets. He never really noticed how nice Luciano’s eyelashes were (girls that met him probably got jealous; he knew he was), nor did he really pay attention to the two lines on his cheek. Hands coming together in a tight grip, Feliciano frowned and brought his gaze back at the floor.
Chuckling under his breath, Feliciano rolled his eyes at himself and leaned back against the couch. With slow movements, Feliciano’s hand placed itself hesitantly on Luciano’s head, and after closing his eyes, he began to count quietly.
Feliciano remembered that his father always dismissed religion. It was something the family simply could not believe in. What Feliciano did was evil. What they all did was evil, and it was simple truth. Despite that, Feliciano kept counting. He needed to make absolute sure that he was giving his every thanks to the universe that brought them both here.
