Fsssshhhhh...
Mr. Plant was yanked out of his thoughts as he heard the noise from the faucet. He could have been pulled back by the baby crying, Argos calling his friend on his phone, or the sound of the blaring motorcycle outside – But the faucet took its place. He blinked a few times as Argos hung up the phone in frustration, letting out a small huff behind him.
Mr. Plant looked over at Argos – Who was washing his hands in the sink. The restroom was disgusting and filthy, but to be fair, it was an amusement park restroom. I bet there's more than 17 undiscovered diseases in that water, Mr. Plant thought.
TW: Mention(s) of SH
His sleeves, Mr. Plant thought – They're rolled up. I haven't seen his arms before.
He kept his gaze on Argos for another few moments before slowly approaching him. He stood behind him, watching his hands intently before placing a hand on his shoulder –
– And tracing Argos' scars gently.
Argos' breath hitched in his throat – And his eyes widened – As if he'd been busted.
Mr. Plant's touch was gentle and affectionate. Thousands of thoughts swarmed his mind as he saw Argos' wounds, his heart throbbing with worry as his eyes welled with tears. He traced the markings like a lizard's tail tracing through coarse, dry peat – his hands holding Argos' arms gently.
His arms... Mr. Plant's heart swelled, his breath catching in his throat as he swallowed to hold back tears, they're scarred.
And as he looked up back at the mirror, their reflections only a blur of colour in the foggy mirror – Argos' eyes blinked, and crystalline tears streamed down his red face.
"I'm s– so-orry," Argos' voice shook in utter pain, "I– I know you're – Dis- Disappointed ..."
Mr. Plant gripped Argos' arms gently, gritting his teeth. He whipped Argos around, turning him to face him. He stared into Argos' eyes intently – As if their souls were intertwining right in that moment, his pupils hugging Argos' – And pulled him into a tight, warm embrace. I'm not mad at you, He thought, I could never be mad at you. Never.
His hands gripped the back of Argos' shirt as Argos spilled tears into his shoulder, hugging him tightly. He wished he could tell Argos that everything was going to be okay. He wished he could tell him that he could never hate him. He could never be upset at him for anything. Especially not this.
Mr. Plant gently lifted one of Argos' arms up to his face – And gently kissed it a few times – Then putting Argos' jacket back over his shoulders for him. He tucked Argos' hands into bed.
—-------------------
"I really don't deserve you..." Argos chuckled, wiping his eyes. Mr. Plant took Argos' hands away from his face, then instead using his own to dry his tears. He was careful not to touch his other eyes, and only tend to the main two that had cried.
Part of Mr. Plant wished he could give Argos a gentle smile, but he was stuck with this engraved horrifying grin on his face. A horrible misrepresentation of himself. But yet, Argos still loved him. 'I love your smile more than sunlight,' Argos always said.
But why? Mr. Plant thought, My smile is rather scary. I don't have those adorable dimples and smile lines that Argos does. How does he stand looking at me?
I need to stop thinking about myself. He thought, cupping Argos' face, Argos is hurting right now.
"Mr. Plant," Argos' soft, gentle voice brought Mr. Plant back to reality in which he always managed to escape from – "You seem a little lost in thought, you big dork." Argos playfully nudged him, Mr. Plant giving a bit of a sheepish smile in return.
Argos pulled Mr. Plant along, grabbing his hand and intertwining his own small hands with Mr. Plant's, "Cmon, I want to get out of this dump before I get rabies..."
Mr. Plant let Argos lead him out of the said 'dump' – And he could agree, it seemed rather unlikely to be used. My initial thought was, 'Who's gonna even go in here? Eight year old banana leaf children looking for their mothers?'
"Thank god they aren't playing any more Harry Styles," Argos spoke in a rather relieved tone, as if he had expected them to play Watermelon Sugar, "I hate that guy."
Why is he your alarm, then, dork? Mr. Plant thought. It was times like this that he wished he spoke so he could joke around with Argos. I suppose I can talk, His grip tightened on Argos' hand, But I haven't spoken in so long, Argos would feel disgusted. He would hate me if he heard my voice.
He would never talk to me again, Mr. Plant's heart pounded with affection, And I want to cherish our current relationship. After all, he's all I have —
And he's all mine.
