milliways_bar | (no subject)

Without much movement, without a sound, Námo sits on the other end of the sofa, his legs drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his knees. He peers at the Man with wide, dark eyes, unsure of much where Gorlim is concerned.

Quietly, the Vala watches.

After a time, there is a glint of light, reflection of the fire, deep within the furs. Half-lidded eyes peer out at the blurry shape sitting nearby. No other change is apparent.

So they stare at one another.

Námo does not know what to say to Gorlim. He still hurts from their last conversation. He still feels the acute sense of abandonment.

He rests his chin on his knees, wracking his brain for something to say.

There is a stirring of motion under the fur. Like a bird pulling its head from under its wing, he sits up and blinks at the Vala.

"What're you all th' way over there for?" he mumbles sleepily, refusing to acknowledge fears that it might be because he doesn't want to come any closer.

"I did not wish to disturb you," he says quietly. "You sleep rarely, and if you were comfortable and warm, it would be rude of me to wake you and demand your attention."

He pauses, words on the tip of his tongue.

"Are you all right?"

Because he didn't seem all right, and that worried Námo more than the awkward silence that had been between them for some days now.

He shrugs, which might be a reply or might just be an attempt to draw the cloak tighter around himself.

"'M fine. Cold, though. You... seemed well, last I checked." He hasn't for a while. He's been afraid what he might find.

"You never disturb me," he adds softly.

"Define 'well', Gorlim," he says with a small snort. He closes his eyes briefly, taking a breath, and then looks at Gorlim again. "When did you last check, for I have not spoken with you since my argument with Ramon."

And even that had been... unpleasant.

"I... looked in on you a few times. Through the bond. You were asleep last time, you seemed content." And shut away from me. "Are you not well, then?" He asks gently, wanting to help.

He sighs.

"I am not unwell." I am unhappy. "Asleep and content? I have not felt contentment in some time, little bird, so I am unsure when you could have peeked in upon me to find such an emotion. I did not know you had looked in upon me; I did not feel your presence through the bond."

"You were with Lee," he says, sinking a bit lower into the furs. "I couldn't get closer than to feel you. You seemed sort of... closed off to me. Although maybe I was just very tired."

There is a flash of guilt over his face and through that bond.

"Oh."

He looks away.

"He and I argued. Three unpleasant conversations in one day was a bit too much for me. Lee came to me, unable to sleep because he did not wish to go to bed angry. We... spoke. At length. I confessed some of my thoughts to him, he tried to comfort me. We talked for a while, and then we slept."

His eyes remain fixed on the floor.

"I was angry with you; I was hurt. And while I did not close you out completely -- for I would have heard you call if you were in need -- I did not wish you close. I am sorry I did so, it was not fair to you."

It had just all hurt too much. He had been tired. And lonely.

Gorlim unfolds himself a little, despite jostling the cloak around and causing it to lose some of his precious warmth that way.

"Did I sting you so badly?" he asks. Please come closer. I hate having you so far away from me.

He notices the parting of the cloak and, without thinking, crosses the small divide between them to cinch it closed again. When that is done, he remains there, hovering, unsure.

Námo wets his lips as he looks to where his fingers touch the cloak.

"I disliked your flippant sarcasm, your dismissal of my own desire to protect. You have been distant and removed from me, not many kind words or warm touches." He swallows nervously. "Lee offered me those things when I needed them, reassured me your mood would pass and it did not mean anything of import..."

His hand shoots out from under the cloak and grasps Namo's tightly. He lifts it to his lips, heedless now of the cold air, kisses it, and presses it to his cheek.

"Oh, my dear one. Forgive me. Please, forgive me. I did not mean to drive you away."

His hand is warm. His body is warm. It is something he tries to think of often when he thinks he may be near people he would like to touch. He cups Gorlim's cheek, smiling sweetly.

"You have not driven me away," he murmurs. "If you had, I would not be here now. But, oh, how I have worried for you, love. I was so confused..."

His eyes seem to shimmer slightly. "It was an odd mood you found me in. And the past days I have been restless, full of wanderlust and deep in fey dreams. I did not understand why you had taken yourself so far from me, so I went far from all else." He closes his eyes. "I have missed you."

Those last words are all that are needed.

Námo makes a soft noise in his throat and pulls Gorlim to him, into his lap, wrapping his own cloak around their bodies. He tries to offer all the warmth he can as he brings their lips together.

Oh, little bird, how I have missed you as well!

As he kisses Namo, his mind retreats towards the bond and embraces the openness of it.

He deepens the kiss, just wanting the intoxicating closeness of the caress.

Forgive me. I thought you did not want me about... and when you were so odd that last night... I left you. I hid away. I spent the night and following day with Lee, lost in what was there, not wanting to think of how much it hurt to hear such a tone directed at me. I am sorry, lover. So sorry. I will not run again -- never shut you away from me.

He smiles, and when he draws away from the kiss, buries his head against Namo's neck with a soft chirp.

"I love you," he whispers. "I do. That is all that matters, aye?"

He holds him close, closing his eyes and smiling against Gorlim's hair.

"Aye, it is." He kisses the top of Gorlim's head. "I love you, too. So much, little bird."

"I've missed hearing you call me that." He glances up, trying to catch Namo's eye. "Pen lithvain."

He easily meets Gorlim's gaze, smiling at the endearment.

"Titta aiwë -- my little bird. With his sad birdsong."

He smiles, and feels just a little warmer. Snuggling close, he gives Namo a tight hug.

"You're warm! Are you doing that on purpose, or am I that cold?"

Námo chuckles.

"I am doing it on purpose, love. You and Lee do not need a frigid body to be near you. And so I have taken to warming my body when I know I will be with either of you." He nuzzles him. "Your personal hot water bottle," he teases.