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OPEN POST | OTA
CALL | TEXT | EMAIL | DREAM | AWAKE
( dream = action in a dream. awake = regular action. default present tense brackets but mixing styles is fine w/ me. )
CALL | TEXT | EMAIL | DREAM | AWAKE
( dream = action in a dream. awake = regular action. default present tense brackets but mixing styles is fine w/ me. )
no subject
This is selfish of him, he knows. Dream would never ask for this kind of thing, but Ciro wants it. The close contact is nice in that it reminds him that there's nothing to be sorrowful for now. Right now Dream is fine--he's right here. They still have some time, and spending it mourning prematurely will do no one any good. So, he'll be a bit selfish, just for a moment longer before he overstays his welcome in someone else's personal space.]
No, it's okay. You don't have to do that. Maybe I'll sing for you.
[It's a very bad joke, but Dream might not know. He laughs anyway. Ciro's singing voice isn't the least bit pleasant. He can probably hold a tune, but years of smoking on top of his almost-deep voice results in something raspy and gritty. Definitely not lullaby material by his own assessment.
Before he changes his mind, he releases Dream and nudges him toward the door so they can go inside, down the steps, and Ciro gestures to his bedroom before stepping in behind his guest. It's deliberate the way he avoids eye-contact now. Having to see Dream with tears in his eyes would finish him emotionally, and he knows they're there because he can feel them. Confirmation of it will end up in more close contact, and he's not looking to scare Dream away.]
You can borrow some clothes if you want to change out of that. I don't have much, but help yourself to anything you find.
[Ciro takes a few steps forward to lower himself to the edge of the bed, eyes cast down at his feet as he slides them out of his slippers, pretending to be fully focused on the task so he won't look directly at Dream just yet.]
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He doesn't mean to be selfish and hopes Ciro isn't to off-put by his own unusual show of emotion, not thinking for a second that the reason Ciro can't look directly at him is simply because he cares.
Dream has never gotten close enough to someone to tell the difference.
As Ciro removes his slippers, Dream watches, his weight shifting lightly as he doesn't approach the bed right away. When he does come closer, he pauses rather than sitting. He doesn't feel the need for borrowing of clothing but wonders if that would be the more polite thing to do - to accept - and when he tilts his head he does take one moment to wipe the back of his hand to both eyes. It comes away damp but is easily ignored as he sits beside Ciro, close enough their shoulders brush ever so slightly. ]
Part of me still feels I should go, but...
[ Trailing off, the empty space might speak for itself: but I don't want to, but I do not welcome that loneliness I've made false peace with. Not tonight. Dream leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped lightly, head bowed. Inside of Dream there isn't just a slow, inevitable failsafe running its course; there is also just the heart and memory of a boy first let into the world less than a decade ago. Though wet eyelashes are dark, no more tears struggle out, and Dream chuffs the softest, barest-there of laughs, almost not one at all.]
Are ... are you sure that it's alright?
[ His head cants to the side just a touch, not enough to look directly, and he lets his gaze slide forward again, away. Alright if he stays, alright if he doesn't know what he is or what is happening...'alright'. ...'alright' to want to do so. And again it blooms almost foreign in Dream's chest to the point that he raises one hand to his heart. It's a little too fast. Ah. He bows his head again, soft smile not wholly gone so far. ]
no subject
Is he just being dramatic? Or is it warranted? Should he show more emotion to make up for how much Dream isn't? Ciro doesn't really know what to do with regard to it, so he tries to keep moving through the process of being a good host, making sure his guest is comfortable.
Only when Dream says he feels like maybe he should go that Ciro finally looks up, then back down on his hands again, shaking his head.]
Don't go. [With Dream right beside him, he doesn't have to reach very far to rest a hand on his thigh.] It's no trouble at all, I want you to stay with me.
[Ciro shifts to the side, resting his weight on the opposite arm as he regards Dream quietly. If he were like other people he knows how he could get him to want to stay, but using those tactics on someone like this would just be wrong. Especially since he does have a soft spot for Dream and no incentive to seduce him and never call again. He does lean in to place a brief kiss on his lips though, pulling back straight away so he won't be tempted to linger.]
I'm sure.
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.]
no subject
Since his knowledge of Dream is limited, he's glad he doesn't let himself get caught up in the heat of the moment and take things too far. He doesn't know if Dream has family, or hell, if he's seeing anyone. It's not good to assume things, but from that reaction Ciro can only lean toward doubting Dream has anyone in his life currently that he kisses--or touches with any intimacy at all. Even their hug felt, not unwanted, but maybe cautiously optimistic on Dream's part. Ciro is usually able to feel how interested in him people are, so when there's little to none of that being picked up he finds he enjoys being the one to slowly warm someone up to the idea of him rather than the other way around.
There's far less emotions to wade through, and it makes him feel normal. Like he doesn't have a big advantage because of his empathic abilities.]
Can you wh--oh.
[Ciro finds that he's still smiling when Dream actually makes a move of his own. The arms around him and face against his shoulder is welcome, and Ciro shows it in how he leans in. Dream feels comfortable and his scent is soft and delicate--almost undetectable under the scent of where he works. The brief contact between Dream's mouth and the skin of his cheek is harder to miss though. Goosebumps spread over his skin as those next words register, his heartbeat quickening unexpectedly.]
There's no way I would let you.
[The arms around him squeeze tighter, but rather than resist, Ciro uses his weight to push Dream down against the mattress playfully, keeping an arm curled around him loosely.]
I don't want to think about that, or I'll really never sleep.
no subject
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.]
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[Not enough to ease his concern entirely, but at least it would seem that Dream won't be as stressed as he is about it. It may be a good thing to keep it that way. Spending the time he has left, however long that may be, fretting over it wouldn't be a good usage of that time.
But..
He can argue that doing this isn't helping anything either. Getting closer to someone quite literally fading away. It's asking for trouble, but Ciro is the kind of reckless where he does what he feels is right regardless of the emotional damage it may do to himself. Life is too short to not indulge in the things that really make one happy.
His hands aren't overly enthusiastic about letting go of Dream, and so he doesn't. As if keeping him trapped right there against him would prevent his fluttering out of existence. Ciro rubs his hand up and down slowly along Dream's side as he closes his eyes for a bit. He finds that he doesn't want to sleep, anymore, but might keep trying in silence. If he can manage to keep quiet.
A few fingers disappear beneath Dream's shirt, brushing accidentally against his skin and Ciro finds he enjoys how it feels enough that his whole hand follows suit, just resting against Dream's waist.]
Are you still interested in letting me sing you to sleep?
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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.]
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As far as song choice goes, he's blanking out on anything recent so he starts to hum an old lullaby his mother used to sing him centuries ago. The words come to him easily, but whether or not Dream understands Japanese he sings on, still idly rubbing his hands over warm skin. His voice can carry a tune, but it's not as universally enjoyable as Dream's.
Whatever you like.
Ciro finds himself hoping that Dream is around long enough to regret those words. He sings the lullaby two times over, his tone is emotional and inconsistent throughout each song, like stone over a metal grater, but it doesn't sound bad as much as it sounds sad. It gives away a lot of how he's feeling deep down, not that he's done much to hide it.
Once he finishes the song, he looks directly at Dream, wondering what his assessment is. He wouldn't ask, but he's unsure his friend is the type to give unsolicited feedback, and so he does pose a question to prompt him to say something.]
Do you regret allowing me to sing yet?
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Rather than shake his head, Dream hopes his smile says enough as well as his actual words that are somehow both quite clear and very soft at their edges - the view before things become in focus personified.]
Nope. Maybe I'll ask for you to sing to me again.
[If Dream was a different person he probably wouldn't be here, or if he was here maybe they would tangle together with more emotion on Dream's part that is easily read, or perhaps not. Impossible to know but one can guess. Still, Dream is Dream and Ciro is Ciro. He doesn't: kiss his nose or even kiss him back on the mouth or most whimsical of all kiss him against the corner of his jaw where it would be very very easy to do so. He does: rest his face to the crook of Ciro's neck and shoulder, let the blink of his eyes brush the lines of his lashes to his skin there, let himself start to drift off first, for once.
It's the first time with anyone.
Dream hopes he remembers it as long as it's possible for him to remember anything at all.]