#dorym week

Sighing, Dorian reaches out and brushes his fingers against the side of Orym’s face. His heart flutters at the way his friend leans into the contact, but he tamps the feeling down. It’s just comfort, friendly comfort. After the night he’s had, Orym just needs a friend.

He swallows hard and says, “Probably for the same reasons you’re determined. You’re both grieving, you just have different ways of showing it.” 

Orym finally tears his eyes away from the window, ducking his head with a small wry smile playing at his lips. “Gods. I’ve missed you. You always know what to say.”

“I wish that were true,” Dorian moves to Orym’s side and slides down the wall next to him, pulling the blanket from his bedroll over their laps against the night-time chill. He lets his head thump back against the wood paneling. If he knew what to say Cyrus would probably still be alive. Opal would still have all the feelings and memories that had been torn away by the spider queen. At least Dariax was fine. There, that was one person he’d used the right words for, one person he’d managed to save from the landslide that had become his life… 

Dorian is pulled away from his spiraling thoughts by Orym (probably unconsciously, Dorian thinks) leaning into his side, forcing him to pull his arm out of the way before it gets pinned in an uncomfortable position. He holds it in the air for a moment, unsure, then gives into temptation and wraps it around Orym’s shoulders.

Orym hums softly and leans harder into him. “I mean it. I missed you. I… I thought about you every day.”

“Even on the moon?” Dorian asks with a quiet chuckle.

“Even then,” says Orym, pausing as he yawns so widely Dorian thinks he can hear his jaw creak. Orym presses a palm against his eyes and Dorian can see a faint tremor to his normally steady hands. When he speaks again his voice is quieter, tone approaching dreamlike. “Did you know they call Exandria the ‘blue promise’? They look up at us and have hope for the future. I…”

He cuts off abruptly, turning his face away, though Dorian can still see the flush staining his cheekbones.

They sit quietly for a long moment, then Dorian swallows hard and gathers his courage. “I missed you every day too, Orym. There… there wasn’t a single day I didn’t wish you were by my side.” 

He feels Orym slump against his side, his breath finally evening out into exhausted slumber. With an amused huff the genasi tucks their shared blanket more firmly around them both and rests his cheek against the top of Orym’s head.  

“Hope for the future,” he whispers, breath ruffling Orym’s hair. “There’s worse things to wish for.”

Orym couldn't sleep, but this was a normal occurrence at this point. After losing FCG and Dorian losing Cyrus, he was more on edge than ever.

He enjoyed taking first watch. There was something about falling asleep before everyone else that put him on edge. Perhaps it was the danger that may happen if he closes his eyes before everyone else, or the possible feeling of being watched and attacked without the means to defend himself.

"Orym?" Dorian's voice sounded from behind him, dragging him out of his head. He whipped around, a soft breath escaping when he saw Dorian. The genasi was wrapped in a blanket, his hair pulled back in a messy bun. "Your watch is up, you can go to bed now."

Orym shook his head. "Can't sleep," he mumbled, turning his back to Dorian. Orym cast his gaze out past the treeline, staring at a comet that streaked across the dark Exandrian sky.

He felt the presence of Dorian sit next to him, followed by the blanket being held by Dorian being wrapped around himself. Orym still kept his gaze to the sky.

"You can talk to me, you know," he said softly.

Dorian was right. Gods, he hated it when he was right sometimes. Finally caving, Orym leaned into his embrace.

"I missed you. I was worried about you," Orym said, listening to the steady beat of Dorian's heart.

"I missed you, too," Dorian replied. He ran his fingers idly through Orym's hair, his long nails gingerly scraping against his scalp.

The two sat in silence for a while, the faint sound of crickets floating in and out, the occasional hoot from an owl.

"Dorian?" Orym piped up, eyes still fixed to the light of Catha.

"Hm?" A gentle squeeze on the shoulder, letting him know he was being heard.

"Thank you."

Dorian blinked, confused. "For what?"

"For coming."

Dorian's face softened as he looked down at the halfling. "Why wouldn't I?" He replied.

Orym let out a soft sigh, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "I was worried that you wouldn't. You got hurt, or you lost the stone, or just... forgot," Orym said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dorian shook his head. "I would never." He held Orym a bit tighter, his heart sinking at the thought of Orym holding onto his Sending Stone, thinking that he wouldn't come.

The silence grew back once again. Dorian thought that Orym had fallen asleep and he was ready to scoop the halfling up and deposit him in his bedroll, until-

"I love you," Orym said suddenly.

Dorian's heart skipped a beat. "I- uh, what?" He managed to get that out, at least.

"I love you, Dorian," Orym repeated, his voice a little stronger.

"I... I love you too," Dorian replied softly, his head spinning.

A bit more silence. This was real, right? And not Dorian dreaming? Or maybe he was still asleep and he forgot to wake up for his watch.

"Dorian?" Orym's voice cut through the ambience of nature.

"Hm?"

"Can you tell me that it's ok to sleep?"

"Of course." Surprising Dorian, Orym clambered up into Dorian's lap, resting his head against his chest. "You're safe. Feel free to sleep."