[ Silly, a triangle is the strongest shape. Midnight rumbles at the strokes, a purr in all but true name. He leans in, eye closed, and kisses over that raised pulse, over ghosts of bruises from a bite in the dark. He wonders, not for the first time, if the emotion Kaveh feels is possible in himself. If it would hurt if he lapped that anger from his body, from puncture wounds in his neck. ]

Your heart needs to survive for the fury to stay alive. Fury without the body is a ghost, and between the both of us, I don't think I'll believe in one until I meet one properly.

[ He says this in the way one would soothe an inflammation with aloe, with water. Breathe, Kaveh, don't make your heart burst before its time.

At the last declaration, though, he opens an eye, face still hidden in Kaveh's neck. He huffs a laugh. ]

Bold words, love. Even if we weren't living amongst excellent examples of some terribly cloistered souls... Loneliness lives in bad company, and I am always with myself.

[ With himself, not by himself. Sure, being alone can hurt every now and then, but it always passes, and once it's in the past, he gets moments like this, kissing skin and touching fingertips to work-scarred, work-loved palms. How could he feel anything but gratitude? ]