[There are some fairytales, folktales, myths, what-have-you, where the foreign invasion of good or bad things can only amount to an implosion. The wings burned away. The star crushed into its finer ancestry. The song turned into a figment no one remembers the way it was supposed to be. For Dream, feeling more than usual could be this invasion and yet he doesn't fight it so much as, out of habit, almost neutralize it. He has some sense that his lack of emoting might be unsettling and he thinks to speak of it, but the words soften and mute entirely on the tip of his tongue first at the touch of Ciro's hand and then the impossibly light meet of his lips.
Like some kind of child, Dream's eyes remain wide open. Granted, it's only a second or two; it's harder ostensibly to close them that fast, but the way he stares might be taken wrong. Dream smiles wider but there's something almost more fragile about this look than the smaller one even if Dream himself couldn't explain why. His heart continues to beat too fast but he pays it little mind in favor of watching Ciro close closer closest; watching to see if it was a mistake though it doesn't feel to him as though Ciro is the type to make such things. Not like this.
It was deliberate for all that it was momentary.
Dream is being given room to accept it and move on with ease.
He doesn't know what to do with that kindness at first.]
Can I...
[To call it tentative would be an understatement, the way Dream is the one this time to lean forward and rest his face to Ciro's shoulder, to slip his faintly shivering arms around him and confirm that his friend is real and that he himself is still there. He's never let himself do this, and he hopes he won't regret it, won't cause Ciro any irreparable trouble or discontent. Ciro wants him to stay and if Dream had ever stuck around long enough, perhaps he wouldn't be the first to say so; but Dream has always drifted. Here, now, is the first and maybe only time he lets someone happen to him and not the other way around.
I'm sorry, he thinks and doesn't know why he feels this way.
His mouth is curious even as his mind is too tangled, and Dream doesn't know why Ciro kissed him but he thinks of all the first kisses to have, it was incredibly sweet and he couldn't have asked for more. With his face leant against Ciro's shoulder, angled more to press his cheek there, he says, quietly,]
Whatever happens...I won't forget you.
[He has no way to promise this actually, but he feels he needs to say it: proclaim one of his own desires for the first time...in ever. If anything, he'd rather Ciro forget him, as the future showed others doing; he'd rather be forgotten than forget. Dream wonders how long that part of his future is, before he fades away completely, and indeed then wonders if that's actually what will happen; and that's the trouble at the core of it isn't it? They can't know until it happens, he supposes.
Which Ciro says it won't...
Unconsciously, Dream's arms tighten briefly before softening completely, more gently lain against Ciro than holding tight, reverting always always always to that 'here but only for now' sort of presence. A wind from somewhere very far away incarnate.]
no subject
Like some kind of child, Dream's eyes remain wide open. Granted, it's only a second or two; it's harder ostensibly to close them that fast, but the way he stares might be taken wrong. Dream smiles wider but there's something almost more fragile about this look than the smaller one even if Dream himself couldn't explain why. His heart continues to beat too fast but he pays it little mind in favor of watching Ciro close closer closest; watching to see if it was a mistake though it doesn't feel to him as though Ciro is the type to make such things. Not like this.
It was deliberate for all that it was momentary.
Dream is being given room to accept it and move on with ease.
He doesn't know what to do with that kindness at first.]
Can I...
[To call it tentative would be an understatement, the way Dream is the one this time to lean forward and rest his face to Ciro's shoulder, to slip his faintly shivering arms around him and confirm that his friend is real and that he himself is still there. He's never let himself do this, and he hopes he won't regret it, won't cause Ciro any irreparable trouble or discontent. Ciro wants him to stay and if Dream had ever stuck around long enough, perhaps he wouldn't be the first to say so; but Dream has always drifted. Here, now, is the first and maybe only time he lets someone happen to him and not the other way around.
I'm sorry, he thinks and doesn't know why he feels this way.
His mouth is curious even as his mind is too tangled, and Dream doesn't know why Ciro kissed him but he thinks of all the first kisses to have, it was incredibly sweet and he couldn't have asked for more. With his face leant against Ciro's shoulder, angled more to press his cheek there, he says, quietly,]
Whatever happens...I won't forget you.
[He has no way to promise this actually, but he feels he needs to say it: proclaim one of his own desires for the first time...in ever. If anything, he'd rather Ciro forget him, as the future showed others doing; he'd rather be forgotten than forget. Dream wonders how long that part of his future is, before he fades away completely, and indeed then wonders if that's actually what will happen; and that's the trouble at the core of it isn't it? They can't know until it happens, he supposes.
Which Ciro says it won't...
Unconsciously, Dream's arms tighten briefly before softening completely, more gently lain against Ciro than holding tight, reverting always always always to that 'here but only for now' sort of presence. A wind from somewhere very far away incarnate.]