[ Indeed, were he any less drained or more aware of his surroundings, he'd see the warning signs of a trap, recognize the dangerous fault lines he treads just now.
But that person, all observation, analytics, and lies--that person is entirely too much trouble to summon just now. It's exhausting to keep up the pretenses, and while it's a fight he recognizes himself as losing in this moment of weakness, Lavi welcomes defeat nonetheless.
Defeat, for now, means letting someone else get close enough to assuage his anxiety. To ease his aching body with a gentle touch.
So he lets Kanda lead him back with almost tender reverence, ghost smile still lingering on his lips. It's difficult to focus, heavy-lidded and woozy as he feels, but he does his best to watch Yu, studying him in a fevered-haze light that.. softens those normally sharp features.
Endears him in a way he's sure to blame on fever later, even if it's not entirely the first time he's thought it.
It's a sight soon robbed from him when cool digits trace across his brow, soothe the fire in his skin momentarily. Memories bubble up beneath those traveling fingertips, phantoms of an old battle stirring in the back of his mind. His body had burned with a different fever then, torn asunder by bullets embedded in flesh too young yet to easily recover.
Someone stood over him then too, murmured softly at him.
--though that time had been without threats of violence.
Lavi laughs despite himself, breath wheezing slightly. He reaches up to catch the hand dancing over his skin, pulling it down to press against his cheek as he shakes his head in weak denial.
(Not once does he consider the oddity of the moment, just how out of the ordinary it is that he's seeking a touch to comfort himself and not irritate the recipient.) ]
Mm, this feel good too. You know, everyone thinks you're so mean, but I know better. You're just..
[ Loose lips and sinking ships, all that. Common sense kicks in belatedly, silencing his tongue, hand falling away from the one he holds to hang limply at his side. ]
no subject
But that person, all observation, analytics, and lies--that person is entirely too much trouble to summon just now. It's exhausting to keep up the pretenses, and while it's a fight he recognizes himself as losing in this moment of weakness, Lavi welcomes defeat nonetheless.
Defeat, for now, means letting someone else get close enough to assuage his anxiety. To ease his aching body with a gentle touch.
So he lets Kanda lead him back with almost tender reverence, ghost smile still lingering on his lips. It's difficult to focus, heavy-lidded and woozy as he feels, but he does his best to watch Yu, studying him in a fevered-haze light that.. softens those normally sharp features.
Endears him in a way he's sure to blame on fever later, even if it's not entirely the first time he's thought it.
It's a sight soon robbed from him when cool digits trace across his brow, soothe the fire in his skin momentarily. Memories bubble up beneath those traveling fingertips, phantoms of an old battle stirring in the back of his mind. His body had burned with a different fever then, torn asunder by bullets embedded in flesh too young yet to easily recover.
Someone stood over him then too, murmured softly at him.
--though that time had been without threats of violence.
Lavi laughs despite himself, breath wheezing slightly. He reaches up to catch the hand dancing over his skin, pulling it down to press against his cheek as he shakes his head in weak denial.
(Not once does he consider the oddity of the moment, just how out of the ordinary it is that he's seeking a touch to comfort himself and not irritate the recipient.) ]
Mm, this feel good too. You know, everyone thinks you're so mean, but I know better. You're just..
[ Loose lips and sinking ships, all that. Common sense kicks in belatedly, silencing his tongue, hand falling away from the one he holds to hang limply at his side. ]
Sorry. Talkin' nonsense again.