Everything always feels like a test between them. It has from the very moment Noah had found Kaz wandering around the room on Mammon’s Island.
A test of limits, of trust, of how far one would push or how much they would pull back.
Noah watched Kaz’s face the entire time the glove was removed, and his own hand stayed still where it was offered. And it remained still, limp the entire time Kaz had a hold of it. His fingers didn’t curl, didn’t grip, didn’t demand that the touch linger any longer than Kaz wanted it to.
But his eyes closed almost immediately; walls slammed up in place, blocking out everything else around them until it was just Kaz. Just Jesper. Just him. Jesper was easy to find; he could feel his anxiousness, and he nudged it aside.
The chill went straight to his bones almost immediately. It wasn’t pretty. It was a whole other nightmare of emotions. Every single one was cold, and void, and scraped against the inside of his entire being. A sensation he couldn’t describe if anyone else bee asked it of him. But he stayed still, he didn’t cower away from it, he took it in and memorized it. Catalogued everything into a neat little box that he slammed the lid on when he felt Kaz’s hand pull away.
It felt like being ran over by a tornado, finding the calm center and then having it tear you apart as it left leaving nothing but empty chaos.
He swallowed a lump in his throat and his fingertips finally curled ever so slightly before he opened his eyes. If anything was going to sober him up, it was this.
Everything around him was still drowned out; the music, the lights, everything. For this moment he just watched Kaz’s face. It wasn’t pity. He didn’t pity him. He thought about the way that felt. He thought about the stubborn determination Kaz always wore.
“I know you can move past that, Kaz,” he says confidently, quiet, but sure, “You’re gonna hate me for a lot of it. But I won’t let you drown.”
no subject
A test of limits, of trust, of how far one would push or how much they would pull back.
Noah watched Kaz’s face the entire time the glove was removed, and his own hand stayed still where it was offered. And it remained still, limp the entire time Kaz had a hold of it. His fingers didn’t curl, didn’t grip, didn’t demand that the touch linger any longer than Kaz wanted it to.
But his eyes closed almost immediately; walls slammed up in place, blocking out everything else around them until it was just Kaz. Just Jesper. Just him. Jesper was easy to find; he could feel his anxiousness, and he nudged it aside.
The chill went straight to his bones almost immediately. It wasn’t pretty. It was a whole other nightmare of emotions. Every single one was cold, and void, and scraped against the inside of his entire being. A sensation he couldn’t describe if anyone else bee asked it of him. But he stayed still, he didn’t cower away from it, he took it in and memorized it. Catalogued everything into a neat little box that he slammed the lid on when he felt Kaz’s hand pull away.
It felt like being ran over by a tornado, finding the calm center and then having it tear you apart as it left leaving nothing but empty chaos.
He swallowed a lump in his throat and his fingertips finally curled ever so slightly before he opened his eyes. If anything was going to sober him up, it was this.
Everything around him was still drowned out; the music, the lights, everything. For this moment he just watched Kaz’s face. It wasn’t pity. He didn’t pity him. He thought about the way that felt. He thought about the stubborn determination Kaz always wore.
“I know you can move past that, Kaz,” he says confidently, quiet, but sure, “You’re gonna hate me for a lot of it. But I won’t let you drown.”