[Even though it's literally one of the things that drew them together into spending time initially, it doesn't occur to Dream to even joke that he could 'make' Ciro sleep regardless. Something unconscious in him will always reject the notion of forcing even something well meaning on people; and some of that is personal feeling and some of it is the nature of Dream. Like a dream, perhaps he happens to people; and like a dream, one day, he won't happen again. Ciro lets him hold on for now and that might be enough even if Dream hopes he has more time than they think. He's once again returned to the thoughts of how to ask Ciro not to do anything reckless or risky; that he doesn't want more time if it could be costly to someone else. Distracted as such, worried in the midst of his gratitude yet unable to share that or even show it the way other people do, he's completely surprised when Ciro lays them down together.
His arm staying around Dream is comforting.]
Does it...help if I tell you I'm not overly worried?
[Not about himself, at any rate.
If someone told him this, he thinks he wouldn't necessarily feel better, because the situation is still less than ideal. But he does have a part of himself that would recognize it for their truth, and he would try to balance that inside of himself like a scale only ever made for the emotions of other people. Dream isn't an empath but sometimes it is like his vast spaces inside like that of dreamscapes make so much room for feeling that he understands very very well how they work when they get into his hands. Or he has.
Not one of those people ever were someone like Ciro, Ciro who Dream is, as much as he ever is, finds himself thrown off guard by. It's a compliment really even as it makes Dream warm in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, the back of his neck, little tells that are very human even if he knows he's probably something else. This whole house has the mix of smells of magic and tea and other things. Ciro has his own scent too. And Dream who hasn't let go of him either is less alarmed than someone else might be to find it would make him sad to do so.
Sadness. Happiness.
Affection.
What would it be like to feel them fully?
He's heard many people call them a hassle, even curse them, wish emotions away like some kind of dramatic scourge. Though he's also noted that no matter how sad a person might be when they call into his radio block, they don't say they wish they didn't feel it at all. They long for something past or something missed; they ache. They fear. But somehow, not one of the dozens and dozens of callers, has ever, he realizes, had that singular bitter note of regret.
Somehow, to Dream, that's a sign of hope, and he wonders if he might harness it for himself.
In the future, though not too far of one, when Dream experiences fear the way other people do, he'll sleep for days without waking once; he'll almost lose his job at the diner; he'll miss all his calls and seem, as if in preparation, to disappear. Then he'll wake up and things will go back to normal.
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His arm staying around Dream is comforting.]
Does it...help if I tell you I'm not overly worried?
[Not about himself, at any rate.
If someone told him this, he thinks he wouldn't necessarily feel better, because the situation is still less than ideal. But he does have a part of himself that would recognize it for their truth, and he would try to balance that inside of himself like a scale only ever made for the emotions of other people. Dream isn't an empath but sometimes it is like his vast spaces inside like that of dreamscapes make so much room for feeling that he understands very very well how they work when they get into his hands. Or he has.
Not one of those people ever were someone like Ciro, Ciro who Dream is, as much as he ever is, finds himself thrown off guard by. It's a compliment really even as it makes Dream warm in his cheeks and the tips of his ears, the back of his neck, little tells that are very human even if he knows he's probably something else. This whole house has the mix of smells of magic and tea and other things. Ciro has his own scent too. And Dream who hasn't let go of him either is less alarmed than someone else might be to find it would make him sad to do so.
Sadness. Happiness.
Affection.
What would it be like to feel them fully?
He's heard many people call them a hassle, even curse them, wish emotions away like some kind of dramatic scourge. Though he's also noted that no matter how sad a person might be when they call into his radio block, they don't say they wish they didn't feel it at all. They long for something past or something missed; they ache. They fear. But somehow, not one of the dozens and dozens of callers, has ever, he realizes, had that singular bitter note of regret.
Somehow, to Dream, that's a sign of hope, and he wonders if he might harness it for himself.
In the future, though not too far of one, when Dream experiences fear the way other people do, he'll sleep for days without waking once; he'll almost lose his job at the diner; he'll miss all his calls and seem, as if in preparation, to disappear. Then he'll wake up and things will go back to normal.
At least for a while.
But that's a bit later.]