the television screen was a bloom of shifting colours, a news anchor on mute miming words into the quiet dark. there was a coffee cup gone cold on the tea table, his body cold and tucked up over the couch where he had fallen asleep half way through the paper mound on his own. hours had ticked by in that familiar solitude, and he might have fallen into a deeper sleep had it not been for the physical alarm clock that had become his body: stirring every few minutes to flick his eyes to the phone screen, seeing nothing of note, and putting it down before his focus drifted off again.

the phone stayed quiet, but it was the rustle of a blanket against his legs and arms that made his eyes flicker awake again. a slow inhale, where he held his breath as reality opened up on him like an eyelid — the first few seconds always devoted to making sense of what he was looking at, where a threat could be, who had touched him. then, finding no threat and seeing a familiar face looking over him, his shoulders would ease back, like dust settling.

his hand snakes out of the cosy fold over him to catch at sera’s wrist, blinking away sleep and familiar exhaustion, voice rough with drowsiness and not yet as sharp.

when the touch does come, abrupt and sudden and worried, his shoulders reflexively move to flinch — he nearly gets there before there's a bodily recognition of sera, everything sera : even then, his eyes swerve left and right, alert, waiting for a hammer to drop as if it was sera who was in danger of being harmed. it was pointless to try and shrug him off too, or to make sense of this bizarre and physical care, so he was better off gritting his teeth with a lash of anger in his chest towards the nameless threat that had prompted it to begin with. (of all the times they had mucked around in danger, did sera have to choose today, or any day, to become tender — to forget their penchant for stern-eyed disapproval or wordless concern, which was easier to stomach?).

﹙ 𐊌 ﹚ baldur's gate, entreaty from @fallgrim . . .

thoughts quietening to a significant white noise, while the splatter of blood on his hands was bright. he had swung because he knew there was a small, precious window of time between then and now where god was not on his side. he had swung because second to holding sera by the jaw, nothing else would feel quite so right. a dark red splatter sprayed the wall, and it had a discomfiting noise to accompany it; like water being dunked cold onto the concrete floor, or a scream if it was distorted in audio. he had stood over the body with unblinking eyes, watching as it twitched before it ceased all together. the hammer dropped from his hand willingly, a dull thud, mimicking the now still body that had been crowding seraphim dangerously only moments before.

when he looked up, he met sera's eyes. saw the moment he broke free of the quiet's stupor to reach for him. hands on his arms, then jumping to cradle his cheeks, a promise so quick to reach his lips. brows furrowed like he was worried kenneth had done something so inextricably violent so as to harm himself, shirt stained from blood when he had struck the intruder from behind. most of all, he just looked worried — and he delayed assuring him it was nothing more than another january to him, if only to selfishly soak in the singular point of his focus for a few seconds longer.