[The laugh makes something twist in Koby's chest, with the sudden awareness that this is another connection he'd fear losing, one unlike any other in the house, unlike anything Koby's ever really had before. Louis had been missed during the week, just as much as Quentin or Nami or Tim or anyone else had been.
So Koby lets himself burrow into the broad shoulder he's already soaked with tears, welcomes in the soft thrum of his aura, green and deep and rich like the earth buried beneath the snow, like the rustling leaves of the trees Louis has told him about, the moss that drips from them like veils. He hitches on another sob, shoulders going slack as he gives himself over to the pain, the horror of the last week. The soft blush of his thoughts slips into that for a moment, an echoing ripple of the shattering agony in that first moment, the disorientation, the way he'd thought himself in the Marine barracks, the village, the damp, stinking hold of a ship. Always the hold, at the core of everything, the rotten terror that made up his bones.
But it doesn't stay for more than an instant, banished by the steady, protective movement of Louis's hand up and down the length of Koby's shivering spine, again and again. It's gone, it's done, it can't reach him here. Nothing could, nothing would even get close with Louis here. That conviction settles, warm and comforting and banishing the tremble from his limbs.
Soft, gently concerned:] You did? I'm sorry, I didn't even think -- it didn't hurt you, did it?
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So Koby lets himself burrow into the broad shoulder he's already soaked with tears, welcomes in the soft thrum of his aura, green and deep and rich like the earth buried beneath the snow, like the rustling leaves of the trees Louis has told him about, the moss that drips from them like veils. He hitches on another sob, shoulders going slack as he gives himself over to the pain, the horror of the last week. The soft blush of his thoughts slips into that for a moment, an echoing ripple of the shattering agony in that first moment, the disorientation, the way he'd thought himself in the Marine barracks, the village, the damp, stinking hold of a ship. Always the hold, at the core of everything, the rotten terror that made up his bones.
But it doesn't stay for more than an instant, banished by the steady, protective movement of Louis's hand up and down the length of Koby's shivering spine, again and again. It's gone, it's done, it can't reach him here. Nothing could, nothing would even get close with Louis here. That conviction settles, warm and comforting and banishing the tremble from his limbs.
Soft, gently concerned:] You did? I'm sorry, I didn't even think -- it didn't hurt you, did it?