Rive offcom log: Tim and Yoite, comfort.
Yoite: *provides blanket!hugs*
Tim: *can't really take the comfort from the dying guy some days.* -_-
Yoite: *sees he's overstepped his bounds, shrinks away*
Tim: *face twists in more guilt - great, Tim, way to go - and he ducks down as he pulls the blanket back around Yoite.*
Yoite: *slowly encircles him in the quilt too, silent, hoping the gesture will be enough*
Tim: *angry enough at himself to shove the guilt away and just burrow in, cinching Yoite close instead.*
Yoite: *settles in close*
Yoite: I'm sorry...
Tim: How many times I gotta tell you not to do that?
Yoite: I hurt you.
Tim: *tch* You hurt yourself.
Yoite: *quiet* So I did.
Tim: Yeah, well. *companionable nudge.*
Yoite: *eyes flutter lightly, sinking against his body*
Yoite: ...Tim.
Tim: Mm?
Yoite: ...it's okay, you know.
Tim: ... says you.
Yoite: Well, I am the one dying...
Tim: *sulky* So?
Yoite: *touches the back of his hands gently* It isn't your fault.
Yoite: You shouldn't feel badly.
Tim: Yeah, well, I say it is. And I do. *pokes at Yoite's palms.* So what now.
Yoite: How is it your fault?
Yoite: I was already like this when we met.
Tim: ... *looks away. I made it worse.* I didn't help.
Yoite: I was blind, and now I can see? I can taste now.
Yoite: I couldn't before.
Tim: ... *blink. Hadn't figured on that being his-- * You oughta say these things.
Tim: I woulda brought some shish kebab.
Yoite: There's time...
Yoite: You've -helped- me, Tim.
Yoite: In many ways, you've -saved- me.
Yoite: Saving doesn't always mean living.
Tim: ... *nestles in, eyes half-shut.* You wanna get some sleep?
Yoite: ... Sure. *he can tell that Tim's had enough of the conversation*
Tim: *pulls close. The backs of his knuckles rub down Yoite's back, in a move that's supposed to say stuff he doesn't have words for.*
Yoite: *coos lightly in understanding, curling his tall body into a ball*
Yoite: *whispers* Thank you.
Yoite: Thank you for saving me.
Tim: *tangles his fingers in Yoite's hair, kind of a slow ruffle.*
Yoite: *leans his brow against his*
Yoite: *voice barely audible* It's okay to let go...
Tim: *pulls tighter* No it ain't.
Tim: Get some sleep.
Yoite: *bundles warmly against him, wrapped in his own blanket to keep him from being bony to hold* love is... Watching someone die.
Yoite: *fast asleep in a moment, head tucked under his chin*
Tim: *whispered* No it ain't. *he'll take awhile longer to get there.*
Yoite: *breathing peacefully for once*
Tim: *can't really take the comfort from the dying guy some days.* -_-
Yoite: *sees he's overstepped his bounds, shrinks away*
Tim: *face twists in more guilt - great, Tim, way to go - and he ducks down as he pulls the blanket back around Yoite.*
Yoite: *slowly encircles him in the quilt too, silent, hoping the gesture will be enough*
Tim: *angry enough at himself to shove the guilt away and just burrow in, cinching Yoite close instead.*
Yoite: *settles in close*
Yoite: I'm sorry...
Tim: How many times I gotta tell you not to do that?
Yoite: I hurt you.
Tim: *tch* You hurt yourself.
Yoite: *quiet* So I did.
Tim: Yeah, well. *companionable nudge.*
Yoite: *eyes flutter lightly, sinking against his body*
Yoite: ...Tim.
Tim: Mm?
Yoite: ...it's okay, you know.
Tim: ... says you.
Yoite: Well, I am the one dying...
Tim: *sulky* So?
Yoite: *touches the back of his hands gently* It isn't your fault.
Yoite: You shouldn't feel badly.
Tim: Yeah, well, I say it is. And I do. *pokes at Yoite's palms.* So what now.
Yoite: How is it your fault?
Yoite: I was already like this when we met.
Tim: ... *looks away. I made it worse.* I didn't help.
Yoite: I was blind, and now I can see? I can taste now.
Yoite: I couldn't before.
Tim: ... *blink. Hadn't figured on that being his-- * You oughta say these things.
Tim: I woulda brought some shish kebab.
Yoite: There's time...
Yoite: You've -helped- me, Tim.
Yoite: In many ways, you've -saved- me.
Yoite: Saving doesn't always mean living.
Tim: ... *nestles in, eyes half-shut.* You wanna get some sleep?
Yoite: ... Sure. *he can tell that Tim's had enough of the conversation*
Tim: *pulls close. The backs of his knuckles rub down Yoite's back, in a move that's supposed to say stuff he doesn't have words for.*
Yoite: *coos lightly in understanding, curling his tall body into a ball*
Yoite: *whispers* Thank you.
Yoite: Thank you for saving me.
Tim: *tangles his fingers in Yoite's hair, kind of a slow ruffle.*
Yoite: *leans his brow against his*
Yoite: *voice barely audible* It's okay to let go...
Tim: *pulls tighter* No it ain't.
Tim: Get some sleep.
Yoite: *bundles warmly against him, wrapped in his own blanket to keep him from being bony to hold* love is... Watching someone die.
Yoite: *fast asleep in a moment, head tucked under his chin*
Tim: *whispered* No it ain't. *he'll take awhile longer to get there.*
Yoite: *breathing peacefully for once*