The pout, while perhaps not quite so successful as he'd wanted, served enough. Enzo had to martial it lest it turn to a grin as Tibs gave the smallest fraction of ground. It was a start. His own face mirrored a bit of the pain that Tiberius recalled, eyes squinting and mouth contorting in a silent hiss as his friend tried the spot on his head with a careful fingertip. Enzo ghosted his own hand over the wound, wanting to feel but knowing that he had not yet regained the right.
“I thought we were … I don’t know. More.”
Enzo seemed in that moment to lose the ability to move. He blinked, face falling a bit slack in genuine shock at the words. More? He... His throat solidified. Dumbly, he watched as Tiberius moved to the basin. He could feel blood coursing through him, warming his neck. His stomach seemed to flip and then turn to stone. He sat down on the bed as if the weight of it had pulled him down. More...
He wasn't allowed more. Had he been able, he might have laughed. What could he say? He didn't understand it himself, but he'd locked up any semblance of that hope before he had ever known a name for it. His life was already written. Hells, the names of what children he might someday sire were already chosen! What more was there for him? Everything he'd chased -every semblance of attraction, of affection- it was all stolen from some other life that didn't really exist. He watched Tiberius, biting at the inside of his cheeks because he didn't know what to say. A chisel had been struck against what some unconscious part of Enzo had assumed was thick stone. Now, he was realizing it was just plaster.
Tiberius was gathering his clothes. Say something, you idiot! Stop him! Tiberius was about to leave and Enzo still sat, dumb and panicking. How had it all gone so badly? They were just supposed to have some drinks, some fun!
“Well. There wont be any more nights to fuck up. I can’t reenlist with you and Mal.”
"No!" Enzo almost shouted it, standing and cutting off the word almost as quickly as it'd come out. He fumbled forward, reaching out to Tiberius. "Don't... don't go." One had found the other's elbow, bypassing the letter entirely a first, and he pulled himself toward Tiberius.
"I do... we are... I..." Maker, why was it so hard to speak!? His sigh might have been more akin to a groan of frustration as his mind registered the letter and took it. He made to toss it aside, assuming it was some heartsick farewell and he wanted nothing to do with such a thing. But he hazarded as glance at Tiberius' eyes and saw that something had shifted there.
Stepping back again, Enzo opened the letter. A moment later his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock. In one motion, he tossed the letter aside and stepped back forward, throwing his arms around his friend and hugging him tight. "I'm so sorry. He said into Tiberius' shoulder, then pulled himself back a bit, still gripping the other's arms.
"I'm a right prick, carrying on. But why didn't you say something? Shouldn't you be at home? Mourning? Shit, Tiberius." Enzo pulled him in again, squeezing tight. He knew Tiberius didn't have the best of relationships with his father... but still.
“I thought we were … I don’t know. More.”
Enzo seemed in that moment to lose the ability to move. He blinked, face falling a bit slack in genuine shock at the words. More? He... His throat solidified. Dumbly, he watched as Tiberius moved to the basin. He could feel blood coursing through him, warming his neck. His stomach seemed to flip and then turn to stone. He sat down on the bed as if the weight of it had pulled him down. More...
He wasn't allowed more. Had he been able, he might have laughed. What could he say? He didn't understand it himself, but he'd locked up any semblance of that hope before he had ever known a name for it. His life was already written. Hells, the names of what children he might someday sire were already chosen! What more was there for him? Everything he'd chased -every semblance of attraction, of affection- it was all stolen from some other life that didn't really exist. He watched Tiberius, biting at the inside of his cheeks because he didn't know what to say. A chisel had been struck against what some unconscious part of Enzo had assumed was thick stone. Now, he was realizing it was just plaster.
Tiberius was gathering his clothes. Say something, you idiot! Stop him! Tiberius was about to leave and Enzo still sat, dumb and panicking. How had it all gone so badly? They were just supposed to have some drinks, some fun!
“Well. There wont be any more nights to fuck up. I can’t reenlist with you and Mal.”
"No!" Enzo almost shouted it, standing and cutting off the word almost as quickly as it'd come out. He fumbled forward, reaching out to Tiberius. "Don't... don't go." One had found the other's elbow, bypassing the letter entirely a first, and he pulled himself toward Tiberius.
"I do... we are... I..." Maker, why was it so hard to speak!? His sigh might have been more akin to a groan of frustration as his mind registered the letter and took it. He made to toss it aside, assuming it was some heartsick farewell and he wanted nothing to do with such a thing. But he hazarded as glance at Tiberius' eyes and saw that something had shifted there.
Stepping back again, Enzo opened the letter. A moment later his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in shock. In one motion, he tossed the letter aside and stepped back forward, throwing his arms around his friend and hugging him tight. "I'm so sorry. He said into Tiberius' shoulder, then pulled himself back a bit, still gripping the other's arms.
"I'm a right prick, carrying on. But why didn't you say something? Shouldn't you be at home? Mourning? Shit, Tiberius." Enzo pulled him in again, squeezing tight. He knew Tiberius didn't have the best of relationships with his father... but still.
02-03-2025, 07:33 PM
