[Later, after sleep, at the diner clearing tables, Dream will break a glass and while picking up the pieces his manager will tell him in what is definitely supposed to be a humorous tone: oh I forgot that one. Dream will squint as his glasses slide down his nose at the shards and realize his manager is right - it's an older make that they'd run so low on over time that they'd gotten new ones for the diner as a whole. How this one slipped through the cracks, he won't know, but he'll clean things up and, a bit later than that, absently washing the cut on his hand, he'll wonder if it will be like that for him and the people he has met: I forgot about that one.
At present, Dream simply takes in Ciro's answer and turns it over on the surface of his thoughts the way moonlight fluctuates on the water. 'A little.' Better than not at all, he muses and without meaning to aligns his thoughts with his as well, if only a bit: that this is selfish of him, that he should, by all rights, slip out of Ciro's arms and apologize softly and leave. He's already been given a great deal by him; and even if this is comforting, perhaps Dream would be okay without it as he has done before; perhaps that's the better, kinder thing to do.
He doesn't.
Dream sighs the quietest most understated utterance of contentment without meaning to.... but maybe that's okay. Ciro's hand is warm. Ciro is warm. Or is this just Dream's perception of Ciro and how he is to him? Does that make it less true or more true? Neither? While Ciro's eyes are closed, Dream does like his poetry and counts his eyelashes and thinks of them as wishes.]
Well...if you want to? [The way Dream touches their foreheads together is gentle gentle gentle; he's never been so close to someone for such an unhurried moment, long enough for the other person to be able to tell even the 'weight' of his touch like that is unnaturally light - not like how it will be, but enough to cause dissonance, to make one want to check to see if they're awake or dreaming.] I want...you to do...whatever you like.
[Even if Ciro's eyes remain closed, he can probably hear the soft smile in Dream's tone as if he's saying without saying: but that's what I want for you in any situation.]
no subject
At present, Dream simply takes in Ciro's answer and turns it over on the surface of his thoughts the way moonlight fluctuates on the water. 'A little.' Better than not at all, he muses and without meaning to aligns his thoughts with his as well, if only a bit: that this is selfish of him, that he should, by all rights, slip out of Ciro's arms and apologize softly and leave. He's already been given a great deal by him; and even if this is comforting, perhaps Dream would be okay without it as he has done before; perhaps that's the better, kinder thing to do.
He doesn't.
Dream sighs the quietest most understated utterance of contentment without meaning to.... but maybe that's okay. Ciro's hand is warm. Ciro is warm. Or is this just Dream's perception of Ciro and how he is to him? Does that make it less true or more true? Neither? While Ciro's eyes are closed, Dream does like his poetry and counts his eyelashes and thinks of them as wishes.]
Well...if you want to? [The way Dream touches their foreheads together is gentle gentle gentle; he's never been so close to someone for such an unhurried moment, long enough for the other person to be able to tell even the 'weight' of his touch like that is unnaturally light - not like how it will be, but enough to cause dissonance, to make one want to check to see if they're awake or dreaming.] I want...you to do...whatever you like.
[Even if Ciro's eyes remain closed, he can probably hear the soft smile in Dream's tone as if he's saying without saying: but that's what I want for you in any situation.]