Quietude

8

| Quietude - Chapter 8 - How Things Change

That night, Kyojuro hadn't gotten a wink of sleep.

The sight of [Name]'s bare face had made him lose touch with reality; kept him wide awake and on his toes. He'd tried anything that could've possibly quelled his trepidation:

Deep breaths (the notion of exhaling had completely left his mind at a moment);

Counting to 10 and back (the countdowns were disastrous);

Hugging himself (he kept imagining it was [Name]'s arms around him—a bad idea, really).

Nothing had worked.

And so he simply sat through the night, straight as a pole, stiff as a rock. Restlessness had no part in it, though. The only reason for his prolonged effort at stillness was...

"[L/n]-san."

The boy had succumbed to exhaustion sometime during the night and sagged sleepily against Kyojuro's shoulder. The Pillar hadn't questioned it, simply allowed the forger to give in to slumber next to him. He'd been quick to realize that it implied total immobility on his part if he wished to grant [Name] the rest he needed and deserved.

What Kyojuro hadn't expected, however, was for the smith to make himself comfortable in his lap later on. In fact, [Name] had opted to lay his head onto the flame Pillar's lap rather than against his shoulder, the sudden change of position sending Kyojuro into a flustered panic. The change wasn't unwelcome, though, on the contrary—it was greatly appreciated.

[Name] lay face up on Kyojuro's thighs, allowing the swordsman an impeccable view of his features. The golden-eyed Pillar had spent the entirety of the night admiring the boy sleeping in his lap; he allowed himself gentle strokes to his hair (keeping his touch light and feathered; he knew he had strong hands) and timid grazes to his face.

One thing was for sure; Kyojuro hadn't spared the stars a single glance that night.

[Name] was beautiful. [Name] was so, so beautiful, Kyojuro had to say it aloud for at least the wind, the fireflies, the moon, the night to hear.

Kyojuro had fallen helplessly in love, he realized. And he felt like a fool—a fool for believing that this feeling would ever curse him to his death. A fool for believing that this feeling could weaken him, strip him of his prowess. To hell with self-pity, alienation; torment be damned. Kyojuro was in love, and he'd be strong in love.

Yes, Rengoku thought with a dopey smile on his lips, for [L/n]-san, I'll be the strongest! Knight Rengoku Kyojuro...!

"You seem very happy, Pillar of Flame."

[Name]'s voice startled Kyojuro out of his thoughts, drawing a quiet gasp out of him. Despite having been staring into [Name]'s face for hours, he'd been blind to the incredulous stare [Name] had been giving him for the past minutes. The smith returned Kyojuro's baffled stare through groggy, half-lidded eyes, his expression calm and dull, well-rested. Kyojuro easily recovered his composure, smiling.

"Good morning," he greeted lowly, quietly; for only [Name] to hear. The smile on his face mellowed, and his perpetual expression of surprise and enthusiasm had been cast aside for a softer, sweeter facade—one that didn't inspire as much reverence as usual, but didn't fail to make [Name]'s heart flutter with butterflies nevertheless. A light sparked in the forger's eyes as he looked up at the Flame Pillar.

"Good morning..." [Name] began, trailing off falteringly. His lips pressed together for a moment (Kyojuro's gaze was immediately drawn to them at that moment; he averted his stare guiltily) before parting to release an airy sigh. "Rengoku-san."