DYSFUNCTIONAL S.C.¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ █ ▌▌▌@beherits​.             might be accepting might not idk try me.

KAEYA  today’s morning is a lukewarm thing; of wispy clouds before the sun & lingering dew on the windowsill. it clings to the lattice that frames diamonds of glass & warps what little light does reach them.        the pads of his fingers are a slow stroke. a tippity tap- of warmth, u p the tender inside of thoma’s forearm. it’s perhaps the 5th time they’ve met up like this & the conversation has been interrupted by nothing but time apart.

“—that’s a weighty responsibility.     to serve not just your lord but your family.” it’s quiet. the pale of kaeya’s eye remains fixed on freckles counted in lieu of another’s; the mind drifts even as the conversation stays put. “i know how generous it is to devote your life to someone else’s.” how it rewards... yet f r a y s your own personhood. perhaps thoma is more sturdy than that.

                                  would be kind of rude of him.

              “all that work for some fleeting trust.”

“trust that you’ll be a reliable servant.” languor slinks through the words; their mellow surface belies an undercurrent. kaeya’s smile is as pale as his eye. “knowing,” the broad pad of his thumb rubs soft half-circles into the inside of his elbow, “knowing that you’ll be there.      “no matter how tired you are...    no matter the cost to yourself.” hunched over that wrist like some caricature of a vampire / the watery light brightens his eye ere it crinkles with casual humour. within the curl of their arms, their mugs of coffee are still too hot to drink. “they know you’re there.”

the fine bones of thoma’s wrist flex though his grip is faint. “oh,-” soft, compassionate / a coo that preludes the barely there rasp & warmth of his chapped kiss.