citylogs | denied the light [OPEN]

["I do."

In turn, Daan lets himself hold onto this moment, the way Vergilius smiles. It feels like a small victory.]

You'll change your mind once I start making trouble for you.

[This is enough. After all, Daan has given away his most guilty moment in his life to Vergilius, the truth of it looming over his head as he assumed it would mean he'd be hated. He wouldn't have blamed the man.]

Well. I think I'm burned out on this supposed museum, personally. You?

Bring it.

[I like it, too.]

[The tips of his ears feel a little warm - he turns to glance around them, as if the admission from above somehow makes him more vulnerable than anything it whispered before. Acchem.]

...Yes. I think we need to complain to the staff. Nobody needs to see this junk.

[Oh. That's kind of endearing, the way his ears seem to warm up, but Daan just smiles a little bit at the sight. He keeps it to himself.

Even the umbrella is keen to do so.]

Hm, I wonder if there's a suggestions box?

[There's a pause, then he steps close again, just enough to brush his cheek against Vergilius' shoulder. It's careful, just a bit of contact, but... he feels a bit lighter. Better than the dark cloud over his head earlier.]

Second time to a museum, and I gotta say, not sure if they're for me.

Need to make one if they don't. Just for the principle of it.

[It might be a light gesture, but it makes him feel like he's melting all the more, too weak, too covetous of the warmth of a human touch despite knowing better.]

[His free hand goes up, cups over the other's neck.]

Yeah? When was the first time?

Sounds like a good idea to me.

[Ah. For a moment, goosebumps prickle up his arm at the touch, but he closes his eye and just enjoys the warm hand on his skin. Whatever, he can feel guilty about this later and dwell on it.]

Mm. It was a museum in Prehevil. You can imagine how good that was for me. A lot of the ... people in there were basically doing everything they could to enjoy themselves. And the interior didn't follow the usual laws of physics. Kind of fucked up, but I'm sure that's not shocking of me to say now.

I'll write the angriest notes. You know me.

[A little exhale...of course it was fucked up. Of course.]

Let me guess. It was created by some god's whimsy?

[A helpless shrug.]

Rher's Termina festival, I guess. I assume, anyway. That cat was in there, just waiting to act as a merchant. Everyone else inside... they could speak, but they were still malformed. Acting in revelry, like it was their last days.

Well. It probably could've been worse.

That already sounds bad.

[Again. That damned cat. I can't stand that thing. It took you away from me.]

...Mm. [Yeah.] Moonscorched, again? When you say...malformed.

[Oh. Hey. What the fuck man. His face burns a little hearing that, unsure of how to process his feelings about it. It's... good though, he thinks.

"I'm sorry you met him at all."]

Yeah. Moonscorched. It affects everyone differently, so there's no way to really gauge how monstrous someone turns out.

I'm glad no one else has had to witness any of it.

[He can feel that heat against his shoulder. It only makes the warmth of his ears heighten, spreading from the tips to the edges.]

[It wasn't your fault.]

...You've probably seen enough mess like that for a lifetime. Funny how even this place feels better than where we came from sometimes, huh.

Mm. [Even the reassurance is weirdly flustering. Cool cool cool.]

I used to call this place a vacation. But a lot looks good after you don't get consistent food, bathing, or medicine after three days straight, I suppose.

Still don't care for this city, but... at least I'm not in my world.

["I never want to go back."]

[......]

[But does Daan really deserve to stay in a place like this? A place that unravels him, can still toy with him?]

[..........]

You deserve better.

["Do I?"

He purses his lips. He's trying not to think like that, but it's hard to unlearn in an instant.]

I don't have hell of a lot to compare to.

[You do.]

Neither do I. [And with a tone more exhausted:] But still, one dreams, after all.

[Urgh. Daan ducks his head and presses his face against Vergilius' shoulder for a moment.

"I believe that for you too."]

I suppose... for awhile, I thought that it was going to be as good as I could get when I married into the von Dutch household.

But after that, I've come to realize that there's a lot I haven't experienced. The fair, for example. I'd never been to one until the one here.

To dream beyond that is... not typical for me. But I'll try.

We have to try. All these moments...these dots...they can become lines of terrible hope.

[The hand on Daan's neck slides up, brushing lightly through the other man's hair.]

[He's quite soft, he thinks.]

[My sins outweigh everything, I'm afraid.]

[Oh. That's... nice. It's brief, but it's very nice, and finds himself yearning for more. When has someone ever touched him so gently?]

Ah, and here I was, thinking I've just been a realist all this time...

["You aren't just your sins. They're part of you, but that's not all you are. Not to me."]

Doesn't mean you can't hope.

[He's killed more than he can count. Why is it so easy for these bloodstained hands to hold and carress someone without harming them? Is it possible for someone like him?]

[The last time he held anyone as gentle as this were children who didn't know better.]

[I wish it was easy. I wish your belief could wash everything away. I wish I could be better for you.]

That goes for you too, you know.

[Daan closes his eye and quietly concentrates on his position. The warm weight on the back of his neck and in his hand, resting just very slightly against his shoulder.

"No, I can't wash it away, but it's not just what you are. I just want you to be the way you've been for me."

His eye opens.]

Vergilius...

["I'm grateful for you--"]

For making sure I was okay. ...You looked after me in the mall, even if you were a dick about it. You still did it. And when I announced I wasn't seeing patients for a month, you barged in anyway so I could keep my head together. You went after that cat for me. You...

[His voice trembles.]

Even when you were dying, you told me to live. You're a bastard, but you always... made sure I was taken care of, somehow.

I can never wash away the blood on your hands. I won't pretend like I can. But it also isn't that simple.

...

[Why did he go so far for this man?]

[He knows better. The City has whispered it to him with every dead body at his feet. There's no such thing as true salvation. But still, his heart craved light. Or was it simply craving repentance? To save a soul, to make himself feel better, when he's already destroyed so many?]

[Was he saving Daan for himself, or because it was Daan?]

[He doesn't know. It feels like turmoil raging in his chest, unable to be quelled.]

...I'm worried it was selfish of me. [His own voice is so, so quiet.] Would you hate me if it was selfish?

[Did I see myself in you? But that wouldn't make sense. I don't know.]

[A quiet, breathless laugh escapes Daan. He pulls back just enough so he can look up at Vergilius properly now.]

We're humans. Selfishness is gonna happen. ...Just like it was selfish of me to try to bring you back. I'd be a damned fool if I thought it was all benevolence.

But I also... think that you wouldn't waste your time if you thought it was pointless. That would track for you. After all, why else would you have gotten so pissed when I took off an arm for you? How could that be selfish?

["And I feel a sense of pride in knowing I can make you smile, even a little."]

Whatever your reasoning is, well... that's for you to know. But for me, it means everything.

[It's true. His temper is short, his time is shorter. To waste it would be an irritation beyond belief. But here, he wastes time in abundance. He wants to.]

[He doesn't have words for the moment. Instead, his hand at Daan's neck drifts around to cup over the side of his face. Just to hold him there. As if to take it in. Witness it. Hold it in his eyes.]

[You're a lighthouse on the edge of the water. My soul, lost at sea.]

...It means everything. How? Has no one thought the same for you as you have for me?

[There's a pause, then he raises his free hand to place over the one on his cheek, just to rest slightly. This... kind of contact, Elise never really did. So even something like this feels new, making his heart beat harder, and content to bask in the warmth of it. He leans his head slightly against Vergilius' palm. It's rough, like much of the man, but no less a comforting touch.]

I think my relationship with you is very different than, say, the one I have with Miu or Heine.

[The wryness is there briefly, but he shifts into sincerity.]

...You understand me differently than others, I think. Maybe it's your experiences, or because you know more about me than pretty much everyone else now.

Do I...?

[But again, why?]

[Why? Why? Why...?]

[Why me?]

[To what do I owe this trust?]

Mm. [Daan's cheek seems like it nestles just right in his hand, molded to it. His thumb makes a lazy circle.] You really don't think I'd ever hurt you.

You do.

["I'll repeat myself if I have to, you know."

Daan closes his eye, a faint frowning forming at the idea. That Vergilius would never hurt him? That's--]

That's complicated, isn't it?

["People hurt each other all the time. I'm used to it. That's just what the world does. What the world convinces people to do."

He grimaces at his own thoughts spoken out loud and sighs. Daan would much rather think about the hand on his face and the thumb stroking his skin. That's a fucked up way of thinking, isn't it? Just because he's used to it, there is a part of him that just expects it. Because that's all the world has ever done.]

I think that... you don't do things without a purpose. You aren't cruel for the sake of it. And I don't mind lowering my guard around you.

You would prefer to not hurt me. I think that part is at least true. Otherwise you would have probably just killed Pocketcat, or tried to.

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