[Kanda will just consider it a small mercy that Lavi missed the finer details of Kanda's reaction - no small feat given the way his partner has of seeing beyond the surface of so very many things.
Even so, Kanda doesn't miss the sharp flash of pain, or the way that eye brightens with unshed tears before Kanda's fall, though he is quite nearly distracted once again when Lavi loosens an unfettered laugh.
How long has it been, since he's heard that light tone?
Too long.
It's a stark realization, and one that he feel can be laid in large part at the feet of the Nine. For his nightmares, for the chaos on Leith and on Westerley. It all stems back to their insatiable greed.
Rather than voice this, however, he simply drinks in the sight of Lavi's mirth... that is, until his partner straightens and lifts his shirt, reveals the metallic lacework marring flesh. A knot forms in his gut at the stark reminder of how vulnerable his partner is, how close he'd come to losing him in the riots and all because they're still to prone to act independently.
Not that they can really change this, but the worry from it settles like rusted iron in his gut all the same. Enough so that Kanda shifts in his seat and leans down, his focus wholly on the healing flesh rather than the otherwise distracting proximity.
Reaching out, his fingers trace the metallic lines with a feather-light touch, carefully inspecting each line for signs of tear or infection.]
How cold was? [Because he knows, doesn't he? That tea sat there until most of the heat (if not all) had been drained entirely from the glass.] Fine. They've certainly got enough security cameras everywhere, but there are still a fair few blind spots. Nothing I can't handle by myself unless shit goes sideways.
no subject
Even so, Kanda doesn't miss the sharp flash of pain, or the way that eye brightens with unshed tears before Kanda's fall, though he is quite nearly distracted once again when Lavi loosens an unfettered laugh.
How long has it been, since he's heard that light tone?
Too long.
It's a stark realization, and one that he feel can be laid in large part at the feet of the Nine. For his nightmares, for the chaos on Leith and on Westerley. It all stems back to their insatiable greed.
Rather than voice this, however, he simply drinks in the sight of Lavi's mirth... that is, until his partner straightens and lifts his shirt, reveals the metallic lacework marring flesh. A knot forms in his gut at the stark reminder of how vulnerable his partner is, how close he'd come to losing him in the riots and all because they're still to prone to act independently.
Not that they can really change this, but the worry from it settles like rusted iron in his gut all the same. Enough so that Kanda shifts in his seat and leans down, his focus wholly on the healing flesh rather than the otherwise distracting proximity.
Reaching out, his fingers trace the metallic lines with a feather-light touch, carefully inspecting each line for signs of tear or infection.]
How cold was? [Because he knows, doesn't he? That tea sat there until most of the heat (if not all) had been drained entirely from the glass.] Fine. They've certainly got enough security cameras everywhere, but there are still a fair few blind spots. Nothing I can't handle by myself unless shit goes sideways.