#avaricehands

He neatly arranges them back, so that it doesn’t bother her later, and he places his own boots beside hers.

Her bag is on the couch, and from the looks of it, Caleb figured she had come home, thrown everything somewhere mindlessly and then disappeared. 

Couldn't even make it to check her phone.

Which is why Caleb took a half day at the Fleet and now he’s here in Linkon. He didn’t even bother to change out of his uniform, too desperate to see her, to make sure she’s okay. He knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t know what.

Because Caleb knows her, she doesn’t leave his messages unreplied or even unread, not if she can help it. Which means something happened, but it couldn’t be a wanderer or mission related incident because Caleb hasn’t heard anything about it.

She’s nowhere else in her apartment so Caleb checks one of the places she’s most likely in, her bedroom. Which he finds to be empty, save for the slightly crumpled bedsheets. It looks like she had laid down for a bit and then moved somewhere else. The sheets are already cold.

He walks over to the bathroom and knocks.

“Pips?”

The silence accompanied by his heartbeat in his ears are taunting him. He’s not easy to faze but it’s different when it’s about her. Caleb doesn’t feel so good.

There’s a small hum from behind the door, barely there, but it’s enough and Caleb’s worry eases up a little bit. 

“Can I come in?” He asks, but his hand is already on the handle, putting force on it slightly and noting that his pipsqueak didn’t even bother locking the bathroom door.

The weight of her trust on him is heavy on his shoulders but he doesn’t struggle with it. He revels under it and he almost feels bad from how elated this little thing made him feel.

“…Please…”

Caleb doesn’t need to be told twice.

The door doesn’t creak because Caleb makes sure to oil the hinges of all her doors regularly so that she doesn’t have to. He opens the door slowly, careful, because Caleb doesn’t want to startle her, doesn’t want her to feel like he’s striking her when she’s most vulnerable. Caleb doesn’t do that unless she asked.

(The memories of the times when he crept up behind her and his hands slip underneath her— his shirt, and he feels the bare skin of her chest—)

Blood.

That’s the first thing Caleb sees on the floor in front of the sink, and then the floor of the shower.

Why is there blood…?

The panic in him sets in like the tides crashing onto a cliff and he barely hears anything over the ringing in his ears. He turns—

And there she is.

Blood on the floor by the tub, and she’s in there too—

The water is tinted pink.

The rush of adrenaline in his body doesn’t come from being excited, it’s not the same as flying, it’s not the same as when looking at her while she’s laughing.

This is anxiety and fear, this is how it feels to look for pen and paper to write his last words for her when the pressure in the cockpit is fluctuating, and the engines are no longer working.

This is the feeling of watching her die in the lab, again and again; each time wondering, if she could even come back when they're already cutting her open, trying to make that heart beat again.

The water in the tub splashes as he reaches for her body, buries his face into her neck to feel skin to skin– she’s still warm, please stay warm–

“C-Caleb…! Your uniform, there’s blood in the water– Let me go!”

She fights, but Caleb has always been stronger. Back then when she tried to prove that she can do things on her own when they were in the attic, and now too, when she tries to push his body away. He feels her pulse quickening against his cheek, and he feels a bit better about not being able to feel her with his right hand. He pulls back a little, and he feels a headache coming.

“W-Why are you… Why’s there blood? Are you hurt?” Caleb asks and it all comes out in one breath.

Then he almost loses his balance, his head throbbing from the Toring chip, shit, he needs to calm down.

Then a gentle hand cups his face, followed by quiet shushing, “Hey, I’m fine, it’s just, it’s just my period, honey.” Her other hand holds his left, squeezing it in reassurance, “Take a deep breath for me.”

Caleb convinces himself that she’s fine. It’s nothing. She’s not injured. She’s not in pain, and there’s nothing to worry about.

The headache slowly recedes, and he feels like he can breathe again.

Caleb kneels properly by the tub, and holds both her hands. He brings them to his lips, kissing each of the knuckles, and he opens her palms to nuzzle into them. The tips of her fingers are cold and the skin has already raisined up.

“Pips… How long have you been in here? And your… Your period? That’s supposed to be due in about 4 days, it’s too early to come now...” He says finally. He looks at her with pleading eyes, like a wet puppy, and in a sense he is. With his uniform a little drenched from the earlier panic.

She doesn’t ask how Caleb knows her cycle. Not that she needs to ask anyway. She knows Caleb's… tendencies. He tracks her health, her weight, and god knows what else… She doesn’t really bother with what Caleb knows— and she'd rather not admit it, but it bothers her more if Caleb doesn't know because Caleb has been taking care of her her entire life. She’s only a little flustered that Caleb remembers.

“I guess… I guess the stress just got to me…” She answers quietly.

Caleb regains his bearings quickly, too used to being the one that has to get up faster, be stronger, because his meimei used to be small, used to go through so much pain– even if he knows that’s not true anymore, but he can’t help it. It’s instinct, it’s his second nature, 

To always put her first.

“C’mon, baby, you need to get out of the bath… I’ll drain out this one and prepare you a warm bath… But you can only soak for as long as the time I need to clean up your bathroom.” Caleb tries to tease. It works most of the time.

She makes sort of a grunt, or a whine– Caleb’s not really sure, and this is one of the moments that makes him realise he doesn’t really recognise her as well as he used to. But it’s still her, so Caleb knows nothing else but to be gentle.

Usually, she would have got out of the tub by herself, or raised her arms to be picked up because she knows she can get away with it, but she’s not moving. In fact, when Caleb really looks at her, hugging her knees, shielding her eyes away from him, it almost seems like she’s not even breathing.

Caleb hopes that he didn’t somehow hallucinate his conversation with her, hopes that he wasn't a few seconds too late, and hopes she’s not actually dead.

“Honey…? Let’s get you out… I’ll– I’ll wash you if you don’t feel like doing it yourself, and even if you say it’s embarrassing.” There’s a tremble in his voice. Like a last ditch attempt in desperation to convince himself that she’s alive and the worst did not happen.

She shrugs. Caleb doesn’t know what to make of it. So he does his best picking her out of the tub, and wrapping her in the bathrobe hung by the vanity. Her weight and her thrashing in his arms do not bother him, they calm him; she's alive.

She's alive. And he's probably not hallucinating this. The Toring chip would have done its job if this was not real.

“Caleb–! Caleb, don’t! You’ll get blood all over the robe and–mmph! … Mmh…”

Caleb shushes her with a kiss. It’s slow, and soft. More than a peck, but less than a sensual deep kiss. Her tense body finally relaxes in his arms, and she melts. Always does, when Caleb shuts up and uses his mouth for something else, something like this. She always told him he's more handsome if he wasn't talking.

He whispers against her lips, foreheads touching, “It’s okay, I’ll wash it, hm? When have I ever made you clean your own mess whenever I’m around?”

The stress must have gotten to her real bad, because she’s pliant after one kiss. She doesn’t fight, doesn’t retort, she’s soft and cuddly like this, eyes hazy. She nods, and lets Caleb fuss over her. He leaves one last peck on her lips for good measure.

He places her down on the counter by the sink, giving her another kiss on the cheek before he drains the now cold water in the tub. He rinses the ceramic a little bit, and also the floor by the tub where spots of red had been smudged, messy, especially after he haphazardly kneeled in panic, his slacks now also stained on the knees.

He doesn’t mind it one bit, because his whole being craves her. All of her, even her mess.

She watches him quietly, patiently waiting without much argument. Even if she wants to complain that she's cold, 'Caleb you're taking too looongg…', her voice doesn't really come out. Almost like the chill had seeped into her skin and frozen her lungs and throat, and now she can't even breathe.

It’s been a while since Caleb came back to her but somehow in the span of, probably a year, her mind and body had gotten used to being alone after he ‘died’. Which is weird, because she had two decades of her gege by her side but somehow grief changes a person so much in a year that it can overwrite the very fundamentals of her whole life. It's not fair.

She got used to no one scolding her even if she fell sick from staying in the cold tub for too long just because the many times in the past that her body’s too heavy and her mind’s too noisy that she didn't want to move.

But right now when he does it— though it's not really scolding, moreso he chastises her— the first feeling that surges from the pit of her stomach and brings bile to her throat, was anger.

Why is he here now? Why is he acting like he knows better? Does he know how much she had to endure by herself? Why is he acting like everything's normal? Like he's gege and she's meimei again? Why did he leave in the first place? Why didn't he come back on his own if he's not dead? Why did she have to plunge herself into work, into finding out about who grandma really was, about the aether core, about the N109 Zone, about losing him—

Maybe she never really got through that whole 5 stages of grief thing. Maybe she had always been stuck at being angry, stuck, stuck, stuck, just stuck and helpless and—

In the middle of distracting herself from the pain of his death and getting caught up with finding out the truth about herself, Caleb comes back, and she’s somehow supposed to relearn what it’s like to be taken care of again. To not feel guilty when he does everything for her. It almost feels like a joke.

But when he gets up from testing the temperature of the water in the tub— with his left hand, she notes, it's a constant reminder, that this Caleb isn’t exactly the same from before, not really, not in her mind, because Caleb from before would have used his right hand– and he turns to her, beaming like she is his everything, she forgets all of them.

The anger.

The confusion.

What’s there to be mad about when this Caleb kisses her lips so sweetly?

What’s there to be mad about when it’s so warm being held and resting her head on his chest and she could hear his heartbeats in her ear?

What’s so confusing about loving Caleb when he’s alive?

Caleb takes the robe off her and quickly tosses it somewhere else, before she could see any stain, not that it’s obvious because the robe is dark enough in colour, but she tends to overthink and stress over the small things.

He rinses between her thighs a little bit, to wash off the remaining blood before she gets into the water. He holds her hand as she steps into the tub, gentle again, gentle always.

As she sits in the tub, she glances up, eyes tired and only now Caleb takes note of her sunken eyes and cheeks. She must have not been eating that well either. It's only been about two weeks since he last saw her.

“Aren’t you coming into the tub with me?”

It’s innocent and it’s precious.

Caleb reins it in his pants and shakes his head.

“It’s okay, pipsqueak. I’ll wash up later when you’re done.”

She tugs on his wrist a little, “Why not just clean up now? Don’t you want to bathe with me?”

Caleb should have known, she wants him to come in. She never really says what she wants or needs outright, but that’s okay. Because that’s his role in her life. To understand her in her entirety.

So he strips, and cleans the light stain of her blood on his knees that seeped through the fabric of his slacks.

He settles behind her in the tub.

Like this, it’s easy to see and feel how small she is compared to him. The width of her shoulders is only almost two thirds of his. Her body between his thighs fits easily, and Caleb tucks her under his chin.

It’s quiet like this, here. In Caleb's mind.

He wraps his arms around her, and shifts his body a little so that he’s hunched over her figure and his chin rests on her left shoulder. He can’t quite particularly see her face, but it’s enough to see the high of her cheeks. Caleb notes her skin is a bit pale.

She then hugs her own knees, close to her chest, turns her head as much as she could, looking behind her to face him, and rests on her temple, on her knees. Her right cheek a little pressed and mushed, but this way she can see Caleb, and Caleb can see her.

Slowly, Caleb leaves small pecks along the line of her shoulder, “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

She takes a while to answer him, but Caleb has always been patient.

“Dunno… Guess work’s just been kicking my ass…?” She answers as much as she doesn’t. Caleb doesn’t really pry, not yet.

He hums into her skin, and his hand slowly trails to her lower abdomen, where her cramps usually hit. He massages the area gently, “It hurts here?”

She nods and her face scrunches a little, "Not too bad yet."

Caleb continues kissing her skin, the back of her neck, then the side of her neck.

“I’ll make you lots of beef, okay? Your period just started today, right? It seems heavy already… You’re already so pale…” He whispers gently. His other hand that’s not busy soothing her ache comes up to caress her cheek lightly. The water is still warm when it falls on her skin, but the chill of the air quickly replaces it. 

She shivers slightly, so Caleb pulls her closer, somehow, even if his chest is already pressed against her back.

Caleb wants to get her out of the water, remembering how the skin on her fingers had already wrinkled, and she’s soaked for too long. But the water is still warm and she’s calm, so he doesn’t really want to move either.

There's only the echo of the occasional drops of water from the showerhead, and their calm breaths. Otherwise it's silent.

“I keep thinking,” she starts, and Caleb listens.

“Thinking about… how things were and how things changed. I found out the truth about myself too, and suddenly, everything is too heavy. I couldn’t, can’t move. And today it just… spiraled when my period came.”

Caleb hums and nuzzles his nose a little on the crook of her neck, encouraging her to continue.

Now that she started talking, it won’t stop, and alongside it, comes the waterworks.

“It came in the middle of a mission and Captain Jenna let me go home. And suddenly I’m wondering if any of this is worth it, and it feels like nothing even matters… Not the association, not the aether core, nothing.”

She’s sobbing with her nails digging into the skin of her arms, from how she's crouching and curling into herself. Caleb tries to take her hand, get it to hurt his skin instead.

“I'm hurting, and this stupid thing inside me, I-I wish..!" She doesn't really finish, maybe she thinks she doesn't really mean it— her wish, whatever it might have been, but Caleb doesn't fight her, doesn't try to convince her how she's supposed to feel about it. Just keeps massaging her lower belly and hoping that his warmth is enough. He wonders if she's talking about her period or the aether core in her heart.

"I caused a lot of people pain. You." She turns away from him but her nails dig into his forearms. It hurts, it does, but Caleb doesn't flinch. "I hurt you. I should just–mmh—!”

He kisses her again. And again.He changes their position so that she's facing him and her folded legs are between them, the one barrier that stops him from feeling her chest close to his. So he manoeuvres them a bit, so that she's wrapping her legs around his waist instead.

She sobs through it all, but at least her hands are now on his chest, trying to push him away rather than trying to peel the skin off her arms.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, honey.”

"No, it's not okay! I feel like I can't do anything right! I never make the situation better! I collapse in the middle of a mission from the cramps and then I come home and I can't get anything to eat because I'm in pain! And then, and then I go ahead and say the wrong things to you that breaks your heart because I've changed and I don't know how to be the meimei you used to know anymore!"

Caleb holds her tight as she cries. Holds her head to his chest. Hopes that the artificially maintained, slow and calm heartbeats of his heart would give her even just a little bit of comfort.

He kisses her wherever he can reach, the top of her head, her forehead, her temples. He shushes her and quietly caresses her back, "It's okay, honey. Just… Cry it out first."

When she's quieter, and her breaths aren't hiccuping anymore, he carries her gently out of the tub. The water's turned cold anyway.

He wipes her down, places her on the vanity with a towel underneath her and quickly puts on her pad on her clean panties. He's only done this a few times before, when she first got her period and then a couple more times when the cramps are bad.

He slips her underwear on for her, and then he carries her again to the bedroom, where he finds one of his shirts that she liked, dressing her in it, and then dressing himself in a couple of spare clothes he left in her apartment.

They don't really discuss what she said, not about her discombobulated feelings, and not about the aether core either. He lays her down on her bed gently, and she sniffles. Quiet. So Caleb kneels by the bed and gently caresses her hair, whispering, "Are you hungry? Do you want to eat? I can make you something."

She can't even answer like this, she tries, but Caleb sees the tears welling up in her eyes as she nods. He gently wipes the tears away then grabs a tissue from the box by her bedside. He gently dabs the cloth on the corners of her eyes, and the track it left on her face.

He whispers again, "I'll be right back, okay? Just rest while I make you something." Then he kisses her cheek.

She frowns as he gets up to leave, her hand grabbing his wrist, "…But I don't want you to leave…"

He kneels again, "Hey, it's alright, honey. I'm not leaving you, pips, I'll just be in your kitchen."

"Caleb, don't leave me alone, please."

Her plead breaks his heart, how could it not? She's so needy like this, and it's difficult to not fulfill her every wants.

"Okay. Okay, honey. I won't go anywhere." He decides then, he picks her up again, and carries together with him her blanket. He carries her to the kitchen, to the couch in the living room where she can see him working in the kitchen.

Settling her there, wrapping her in the blanket to keep warm and laying down to rest, he kisses her cheek again, "There. You can see me juust over there, okay? I'm still here, pips."

She nods, and when Caleb is sure she's okay, he finally gets to working in the kitchen.

He tries to be okay, too, but he's worried beyond belief. It makes him want to offer her the escape again. To stay with him. Worry about nothing. Gege will take care of her, take care of everything. But he doesn't know if that will make things better or worse for her— for them, considering how she reacted before.

And Caleb realises then, and maybe not for the first time, but a cruel, constant reminder that comes to bite when he gets too comfortable, that, just like her, Caleb also doesn't know how to be the gege she used to know anymore.

He opens the fridge, it's empty. And this is breaking his heart. He doesn't think he'd been neglectful but it seemed like the lax surveillance he had on her doesn't do her any good. He tries, really, to not be overbearing, respect her boundaries but— but this is how she's living, depressed, day by day, and acting like her gege wouldn't care.

He doesn't get angry, not at her at least. Just, quiet sadness that seeps into his heart the way the chill of the refrigerator starts kissing the skin of his cheek from how long he's staring at the fridge that only had a box of leftover takeout, leftover boba, and two eggs. He closes the door.

"Everything okay, Caleb?" She asks, and Caleb's fingers twitches.

"Peachy, pips." He considers his options. He can't leave the house without her, but to bring her— she's in pain and exhausted. Probably hasn't been eating properly either. But he cannot, not bring her with him either, she's being clingy, and so sensitive at everything and Caleb's weak to her whims.

Thankfully, her condiments and shelf food are still alright— he sees rolled oats, yes, he can make something with that.

"How long have your eggs in the fridge been there, honey?" He asks, and she replies, "Dunno… maybe over a week… I don't remember."

Well. He'll have to crack them open to know then.

Or, he could give her something, to make her sleep. He'd done it before, maybe he should do it again. So that he can slip out of her apartment to get groceries himself instead of using a delivery service and letting incompetent nobodies pick groceries for his precious one.

He pours a cup of water, and walks over to her. Crouches by the couch so that he's at eye level with her, "Hey baby."

He slowly pulls her up to sit and hands her the cup, "Why don't you go to sleep? I could go get some things to cook for you and then by the time you wake up, you'd already have something to eat."

He smiles, tries to be reassuring really, but she stills, the mouth of the cup just a few centimetres away from her lips. Her scowl doesn't scare him, not even when she throws the cup at him.

"Did you put something in my drink again, Caleb?"

Caleb looks away from her, his eyebrows now furrowed too, and kneels on one knee to pick up the cup that now lies sideways on the carpet, the clear water now drenched to the front of his shirt and some more on the floor.

"I really didn't this time, pips. But I hope that made you feel better." He exhales through his mouth, and then he comes closer to the couch and holds the back of her head as he plants a lingering kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, okay? I love you." He doesn't need to say any more. It's enough, he knows it's enough and he knows she feels like it's enough too.

She's sobbing again, and she's clutching to his shirt, and Caleb decides this is no good.

"Honey, let me change into something dry, and then we'll bundle you up so that we can go get you something proper to eat."

Through her sniffles, she manages to say, "Not gonna cook for me?"

And Caleb can't help but think his meimei really is a spoiled brat. Threw a tantrum and still expects him to do things for her. Which he will, gladly, because he was the one whom enabled her all this time afterall.

"I would like to, but you don't have anything proper at home. Congee could work but… I'd prefer it if you got some meat… Beef, lamb, something. It's your period and you're so pale, baby." He caresses her face, gentle and soft. His thumb lightly brushes her trembling lower lip, her eyes red and nose snotty.

Caleb loves her.

"You don't even have to think about anything. Just keep me company. You don't even have to walk. I'll carry you on my back, hm?"

Even then, even after she threw a cup at him for the second time, he could only be gentle with her. Not that he even thought of being anything else. She deserves someone gentle, someone kind, someone who won't cut open her chest so that they could use her heart for the sake of 'humanity'.

She's a person. She's his person. And Caleb will make sure she stays safe and loved.

When she nods, lips trembling, he can't help but feel so, so endeared, whispering, "It's okay, gege's here. Gege's here now, it'll be okay. I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at all," because she kept apologising. For the cup. For being needy. Though she never has to apologise for anything, at least not anything she has said today.

He carefully picks her up, careful not to let the cool water soaking his shirt get to her too, and carries her back to the bedroom, where he can change into something dry and get her some proper jacket before carrying her on his back on a piggy back ride.

"Am I heavy, gege?" She asks, tearfully, voice wilted, and Caleb only laughs, "Not at all, baby. Just like a feather." He is speaking truthfully, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes because— well, she's too light. It's obvious she hasn't been eating well. Caleb has to change that.

He carries her all the way to the restaurant that she likes, and makes sure she's occupied enough that she can't even think about any stares they're getting— if any, though not that she cares much either. Not anymore.

And he fulfills his promise. She didn't have to lift a finger, not a single one, from eating, and going back to the apartment, and settling back into bed to rest. Caleb is there, Caleb is taking care of it, and Caleb is making sure she's okay.

Staying close in bed, his chest to her back, and his hand holding a heat pack on her tummy, he leans in close and kisses her nape. This is all he's ever asked for. For her to need him, for her to want him, and he'd consider himself blessed that he's even allowed back into her life.

"Thank you, Caleb." She says, soft voice cutting through the silence of the night. Caleb hums, and hopes the sound makes her calm and content the same way her voice does to him, "You're welcome, baby."

dividers by @/cursed-carmine !

sometimes you wonder if this is alright.

if this is right.

if this is alright for you to have.

nothing is clear anymore. it feels like you're wasting your time.

you draw another sharp line across the smooth skin of your stomach with your nails. digging into the flesh. makes sure it hurts a little. leave a line. you can't see it right now but the pain is there and you know that this old habit for years will produce a non lasting scar but just enough for a few days and you'll do it again when the previous one fades. although this is the first time you're doing it since you were 19.

just a few years of going through life thinking you're healed, you're done, but for some reason it's so so easy to fall back. to want to die again. to think it's not worth it again. that you're wasting your time, and everyone's time.

"penny for your thoughts? or would my cutie prefer pearls as payment?"

his voice is calm and soothing as he slides into bed. you scoot into his embrace, naturally, easily, like you belonged there. maybe you do. he'd say you do. and perhaps you could take great comfort in that, that there's a small space in the world for you at least.

you shake your head to his question. it's not worth it. you're wasting everyone's time.

he notices how you tug your shirt down haphazardly, messy, clearly up to no good. he asks for forgiveness in his head but he knows you won't talk if he doesn't seek it himself.

so he pulls off the blanket and tugs up your shirt before you can reprimand him.

you don't expect anything— you don't know what to expect, more like. so you keep quiet, even as his fingers come to trace the few lines you'd pierced through your skin using your nails. it doesn't bleed, sure it doesn't, it's not a typical way of doing it, but when you peel the layers of reasoning, of how it makes you feel, what else could it mean?

"you're… you're doing it again. these are similar to the ones on your wrists when we met, are they not?"

there's no way around it, and you're not one to lie to him. maybe it's okay to tell him because at least he won't be mad if you cried. so you bite your lips and nod as you pulled your shirt down again.

he looks at you, pained, like he's feeling your hurt himself. you hate that you caused this expression on his face. you hate it more that you know he understands and he probably feels the same way you do when he retracts back into his shell of never ending cycle of painting the pain away without sleeping or eating.

"there's no helping it." you say quietly. and it might have made things worse. you wonder if this will escalate into a fight. you know it will if you were talking to your mother.

but rafayel is not your mother. rafayel is kind. rafayel is gentle.

"there's no helping what, baby? i… i wish you didn't feel this way…" his hand pulls the blanket back over your bodies, and he slides his hand under your shirt, caressing your otherwise soft skin. you know he can feel the few lines you'd drawn now getting a little inflamed because you can feel the slight sting when his fingers brush over them.

"i'm stuck. i feel like i'm stuck."

"stuck…? how? talk to me, my pearl?" he pleads. and his voice is kind. it doesn't sound like a bad fight is about to happen.

"i don't know if… if being a hunter is something that i want anymore…"

rafayel hums and he pulls you closer, tucks you under his chin. he waits for you to continue.

"i think i'm wasting my time… but at the same time, i don't want to… give up just yet…? it's confusing. i don't know if any of this is right. but i kind of can't afford to dilly dally just to see if this will work out…"

his hand slides from your hair to your back repeatedly, like he's petting you and it feels nice. to be held gently like this.

"it's okay. you… why do you feel pressured to know now? it's fine to just take your time…"

"but that's the thing! i can't… not anymore. next year, if i fail the hunter exam, it's over for my career. i can proceed as a hunter but… i just won't ever rise above a certain rank anymore, not unless i start over somewhere else."

"then start over somewhere else."

it sounds easy, it does, but then you'd have wasted a few years by then. and now you're in a dilemma where you're not even sure if you'll be happy doing hunter work.

"i'm scared i'll waste too much time. rafayel, i'm scared i'll be slower than everyone else, i already am, but now i don't even think i like being a hunter…"

your voice cracks now. it's so difficult. being an adult is so difficult.

"…why choose to be a hunter in the first place then?" rafayel asks. at least this question isn't difficult to answer. this has always been the easiest.

"it was the most convenient solution to escape my house… escape everything that i didn't like."

rafayel hums, and he kisses the top of your head. "then… i would say you should keep going…? try your hardest… even if it turns out bad, i don't think it's a waste of time."

"if it turns out bad… there's so much to lose. i don't know if i can…"

"it's okay. it's okay to realise what you wanted is no longer what you want, is what i think. giving up is courage too. to start over is also being kind to yourself. i don't want to see you hurting like this for longer if being a hunter is no longer what you want."

you hug him closer, even if there's nowhere else for you to go, not really, you're already as close as you can be to him like this. head under his chin, and face hidden into his chest.

"rafayel, i'm scared."

he takes your hand and laces your fingers together, and his voice is so soft and kind, "scared of what?"

"i'm scared of giving this up. i'm scared of the future."

he hums, but he squeezes your hand, "but the future hasn't happened yet, cutie. you can try again and again, things will be okay. a path will open up no matter what, will you at least believe me?"

"it's difficult to believe anything at this point. i don't even believe in myself."

he pulls you away from your hiding spot, and starts kissing your tears away. though, you only start to tear up more from how gentle he is, and how warm this is, you almost feel like you can believe everything will be okay eventually.

"my sweet darling, i don't know all the answers either, just that if you decide to give this up, i won't leave. if you continue, i won't leave either. i'll be here, okay? after a bad day, i'll make sure you get a good bath, and you get a good meal. if you want to cry, you can cry it out too, i'll hold you tight, just like this." he pulls you close again, and squeezes. once, twice.

you sob, you sob, and for some reason it doesn't stop. even as he tries shushing you gently, saying "it's okay, it'll be okay," almost like how you would soothe a child. but it's plenty comforting, it doesn't feel like you're being belittled, it feels like it's just right.

after what feels like hours, you manage to stop, and pull away from him. his face is obvious etched in worry, but he tries to smile at you. it's sweet.

"i'm thirsty." you manage to croak out, and you see rafayel smiling again, this time amused, and you frown. "don't laugh at me."

he chuckles then, after retrieving a cup of water from the bedside stand, pulls you upright and gently holds the cup to your lips. he retorts, "i'm not. i just feel a little lighter that you seem like you're feeling better."

you gulp slowly, and rafayel is gentle even now. he makes sure to not tilt the cup too much, but just right according to your pace, and you think perhaps it is a privilege to be this attuned to another person. "i feel worse. my head hurts. and my throat feels bruised."

rafayel takes the cup away and he slowly slides back into the covers with you as he pulls you into his embrace again, "you cried for so long, i didn't know what i could say to make it all better. i hate seeing you so sad too."

"you being here is nice. just being here is good." and it's true. he's so warm. so warm.

"i'm not going anywhere, you know that right?" he whispers gently, hands still patting your back as he lulls you to sleep.