The arms around him, the warmth of the other man, the gentle guidance to sit upon the room's sole bed. There's a quiet intimacy to it all, and his arms find their way around Fou-Lu as well, allowing it. Feeling the other man's head rest upon his shoulder, feeling him breathe easier, now that they were close, now that there was a physical reminder of the fact that they both lived.
Within the wake of Sunday's admittance, feeling both lost and yet born anew, Fou-Lu relates to it, describes some part of his life--- how he had never known purpose beyond what he had been called for, beyond his own summoning. A familiar ache tugs at the halovian's chest, and he finds that he can understand, the both of of them slated for duties out of their own hands, beyond their control. Expectations set upon their shoulders by those that had called them forth, had given them purpose. To think of a life, without this... A life filled with choice and possibilities, a life beyond a dream, beyond a cruel world that did nothing but kill and harm the innocent...
"There is comfort, in knowing that you understand. Though our lives and worlds may be different, we have found ourselves in a similar position, here." A life upon a Ship that thrived upon a desolate planet. They had no duties. Their lives were their own. "Neither of us have lived without order, without direction, or purpose."
With that thought, a quiet desire takes root in his heart. If Fou-Lu would have him walk through reality, and let go of the dreams he had grown fond of, then perhaps together, they could find something like meaning, upon this Ship. That they could discover together what sort of life they desired to live. Even if it were only temporary... perhaps a glimpse at something better, at something selfish, at something all their own...
The thought flutters in Sunday's chest, an ache wherever it touches. He still struggles with the temporary, with the fleeting. But he supposes he's in good company, if that is the worst of his fears.
The gentle squeeze pulls Sunday back to the moment, the sad smile. He was right-- It did little good to remain in place, remain in the past, stagnant. While Sunday felt lost and almost afraid at the thought of it all, knowing that Fou-Lu felt similarly.... It helped. They were both equally lost, weren't they? Treading water they had little experience with, finding themselves burdened with new situations, new thoughts.... Feelings.
And yet, was it truly a burden? With Malos' words in mind, the encouragment he'd recieved... He doesn't think so.
"It... Is also not a path we need to walk alone. I am with you. I will not leave you."
It's a promise he intends to keep, offering the other man a smile as well, soft.
The thought of being on Fou-Lu's mind like this. Constantly, he'd said. The halovian more than understands what he means, Fou-Lu's gentleness, his voice. The kindness he'd shown Sunday. All of it flickered through his thoughts, even as he mused on his own actions, his experiences, he'd found himself back at the topic of the other. Had found himself wondering if one such as he could ever forgive him, could understand the actions Sunday had taken. Fou-Lu's words had become something of a footnote to his thoughts: How he was not his worshipper, was not one within Fou-Lu's domain, and yet... still, one so godlike, one so Endless, could still find something in him worth protecting. Could love him.
Sunday wishes to feel worthy of that level of care, worthy of Fou-Lu's affections. A smaller, quiet part of him believes he could be, knows that it wasn't his place to decide for the other man where his love laid to rest. Be it in him, or anyone else. The halovian's head leans against Fou-Lu's, his ear wing reaching and then folding around the Endless's head, gently cupping it, feathers brushing against the other man's cheek.
A silence lingers between them, as Sunday closes his eyes, just feeling their proximity, the comfort Fou-Lu's presence brought him. Hoping to extend that same comfort to the other man. All was well. Something, in all of this... It just felt right. Fou-Lu admits he'd had the same concern in mind, and... There's a warmth, in that. Even as they both awkwardly struggled to put the pieces together, even as they seemed unsure of themselves.
"I haven't been able to think of much else, either. You are always present, within my mind. Thoughts of you linger in the background of every conversation I have." Words said within Fou-Lu's hair, his voice warm. "I... worry. I can't bear to see you suffering. I think of how those bells cause you great pain. I think of how I wish to see you happy. How I also wish for you to be near."
His arms squeeze around Fou-Lu, as he nuzzles into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The next words are... They feel like a lot to say. Heavy. They carried weight. But. Sunday finds that he means them, all the same.
"I see you, and I find myself wanting to consider a future."
no subject
Within the wake of Sunday's admittance, feeling both lost and yet born anew, Fou-Lu relates to it, describes some part of his life--- how he had never known purpose beyond what he had been called for, beyond his own summoning. A familiar ache tugs at the halovian's chest, and he finds that he can understand, the both of of them slated for duties out of their own hands, beyond their control. Expectations set upon their shoulders by those that had called them forth, had given them purpose. To think of a life, without this... A life filled with choice and possibilities, a life beyond a dream, beyond a cruel world that did nothing but kill and harm the innocent...
"There is comfort, in knowing that you understand. Though our lives and worlds may be different, we have found ourselves in a similar position, here." A life upon a Ship that thrived upon a desolate planet. They had no duties. Their lives were their own. "Neither of us have lived without order, without direction, or purpose."
With that thought, a quiet desire takes root in his heart. If Fou-Lu would have him walk through reality, and let go of the dreams he had grown fond of, then perhaps together, they could find something like meaning, upon this Ship. That they could discover together what sort of life they desired to live. Even if it were only temporary... perhaps a glimpse at something better, at something selfish, at something all their own...
The thought flutters in Sunday's chest, an ache wherever it touches. He still struggles with the temporary, with the fleeting. But he supposes he's in good company, if that is the worst of his fears.
The gentle squeeze pulls Sunday back to the moment, the sad smile. He was right-- It did little good to remain in place, remain in the past, stagnant. While Sunday felt lost and almost afraid at the thought of it all, knowing that Fou-Lu felt similarly.... It helped. They were both equally lost, weren't they? Treading water they had little experience with, finding themselves burdened with new situations, new thoughts.... Feelings.
And yet, was it truly a burden? With Malos' words in mind, the encouragment he'd recieved... He doesn't think so.
"It... Is also not a path we need to walk alone. I am with you. I will not leave you."
It's a promise he intends to keep, offering the other man a smile as well, soft.
The thought of being on Fou-Lu's mind like this. Constantly, he'd said. The halovian more than understands what he means, Fou-Lu's gentleness, his voice. The kindness he'd shown Sunday. All of it flickered through his thoughts, even as he mused on his own actions, his experiences, he'd found himself back at the topic of the other. Had found himself wondering if one such as he could ever forgive him, could understand the actions Sunday had taken. Fou-Lu's words had become something of a footnote to his thoughts: How he was not his worshipper, was not one within Fou-Lu's domain, and yet... still, one so godlike, one so Endless, could still find something in him worth protecting.
Could love him.Sunday wishes to feel worthy of that level of care, worthy of Fou-Lu's affections. A smaller, quiet part of him believes he could be, knows that it wasn't his place to decide for the other man where his love laid to rest. Be it in him, or anyone else. The halovian's head leans against Fou-Lu's, his ear wing reaching and then folding around the Endless's head, gently cupping it, feathers brushing against the other man's cheek.
A silence lingers between them, as Sunday closes his eyes, just feeling their proximity, the comfort Fou-Lu's presence brought him. Hoping to extend that same comfort to the other man. All was well. Something, in all of this... It just felt right. Fou-Lu admits he'd had the same concern in mind, and... There's a warmth, in that. Even as they both awkwardly struggled to put the pieces together, even as they seemed unsure of themselves.
"I haven't been able to think of much else, either. You are always present, within my mind. Thoughts of you linger in the background of every conversation I have." Words said within Fou-Lu's hair, his voice warm. "I... worry. I can't bear to see you suffering. I think of how those bells cause you great pain. I think of how I wish to see you happy. How I also wish for you to be near."
His arms squeeze around Fou-Lu, as he nuzzles into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The next words are... They feel like a lot to say. Heavy. They carried weight. But. Sunday finds that he means them, all the same.
"I see you, and I find myself wanting to consider a future."