[Koby hasn’t been a kid in years – maybe since before he can remember, since he was old enough to understand that some people were born loved and wanted and protected, and some weren’t, that you were either small and safe, small and quiet or small and dead, and since he’d never be safe, he’d have to learn to be quiet instead. Learn to yes, ma’am and no, sir and right away, captain, anything you say, anything you tell me, no matter how humiliating, no matter how painful, whatever you say.
The kind of safety Louis gives him now, arms around him, hand petting lightly at the back of his tousled hair – it’s not anything Koby has let himself want, not in a long, long time. He’d almost convinced himself it wasn’t something he needed, not really, not mostly-grown and wiser than many his age. Adults didn’t need a parent to hold them after a bad dream, after a long illness, after a broken heart. He didn’t really need to be comforted, to be held and kept safe, right?
And yet. And yet Koby curls into the embrace like he’s been searching for it all his life. He inhales the scent of Louis’s sweater, locks it into his mind, curls both hands into the loose, soft knit fabric and clings on as tight as he can. Vaguely, he’s aware he’s trembling. Distantly, he might be tearing up, too.
The gentle joke gets a watery laugh, though Koby doesn’t move an inch from where he is. Not until Louis lets go.] Don’t think I did. Maybe you shrunk?
no subject
The kind of safety Louis gives him now, arms around him, hand petting lightly at the back of his tousled hair – it’s not anything Koby has let himself want, not in a long, long time. He’d almost convinced himself it wasn’t something he needed, not really, not mostly-grown and wiser than many his age. Adults didn’t need a parent to hold them after a bad dream, after a long illness, after a broken heart. He didn’t really need to be comforted, to be held and kept safe, right?
And yet. And yet Koby curls into the embrace like he’s been searching for it all his life. He inhales the scent of Louis’s sweater, locks it into his mind, curls both hands into the loose, soft knit fabric and clings on as tight as he can. Vaguely, he’s aware he’s trembling. Distantly, he might be tearing up, too.
The gentle joke gets a watery laugh, though Koby doesn’t move an inch from where he is. Not until Louis lets go.] Don’t think I did. Maybe you shrunk?