Eloquence

Tactile

"C'mon, Kakyoin. Your mother's right. We should go to bed."

Kakyoin grabs his art supplies, and a candle, and a handful of cherries, ignoring Miss Holly's "That's bad for your teeth, dear. Don't eat fruit before bed." He's starting to sympathize a little with Jojo's brusque manners. Only a little.

"Good night, Miss Holly."

"'Night, Kakyoin's mom."

"Good night, boys. Go to sleep right away."

Kakyoin follows Jojo down the hallway. "I'm so sorry about Hierophant. Is your throat okay? I just panicked, and then he panicked, and then he tried to burrow down into your intestines and I'm just so sorry about the whole thing and why, Jojo, do you have no gag reflex whatsoever?"

"I do."

"I have just witnessed very clear evidence that you do not."

"No. I do," Jojo insists. "Are we sleeping?"

"Jojo," Kakyoin sighs. "I have no idea what you're trying to say. You've got your back turned, and it's dark, and your voice is all funny. Sorry about that last one."

Jojo takes a deep breath. "Are we going to go to sleep here, and I'll be there for you if you wake up in the dark, or are we going to keep the candle burning and stay up until sunrise so you can fall asleep in the light?" Kakyoin can hear him grimace. "I don't like this. Saying everything."

"It's weird," Kakyoin agrees. "But I can't understand you right now. I'll try to sleep, I guess."

Jojo stops partway down the hall to grab extra blankets and a pillow. They reach his room without incident, though Jojo makes a few low grumbly noises in his throat that Kakyoin's pretty sure are only a result of Hierophant's journey.

Ready? asks the hesitation of Jojo's hands over the candle.

"Go ahead."

They are plunged into darkness. Kakyoin hates it immediately.

"Kakyoin?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you afraid of the dark?"

"I'm not," he says automatically. 

Jojo doesn't grace the lie with an answer.

"Okay. Okay, yes, I'm terrified of the dark, because it reminds me of being blind. I know I'm not blind anymore, but I..." Kakyoin shudders so hard that he thinks the whole house might be shaken by it. "I don't always think rationally about it. Darkness is full of so many bad memories."

"You used to love it."

Kakyoin hadn't known that Jotaro realized why Kakyoin always seemed to come alive at night.

"It used to be full of potential," Kakyoin decides. "Darkness was good, because it hides the things that are. It used to be just like a fresh page in my sketchbook. In the dark, you can't see what is and is not, so anything's possible. And for an artist, that's perfect. So many possibilities. I could imagine anything I wanted, and then when the lights turned on I would draw it. But then... then I lost my eyes, and I didn't know if the light was ever going to come back again. It's one thing to have the potential to make anything. It's another to think that you might never be able to realize that potential. If that makes any sense," finishes Kakyoin, a little embarrassed.

Jojo is still silent. Then he says, "Oh. I'm sorry. I keep forgetting that you can't see me nod."

Kakyoin nods, then laughs at himself. "Same here."

"You could be a sculptor, then. I'm sure Hierophant could help you."

"Jojo," Kakyoin whines. "How can I sculpt something I can't see?"

"Like this," Jojo says.

Kakyoin feels something grab his wrists - Jojo's hands. Kakyoin is startled to find that he recognizes the feeling of them from having spent so long staring at them and drawing them.

Jojo pulls his hands up to his face. Kakyoin's fingers brush skin, and he has to fight down a blush before he remembers that it's too dark to see anything anyway.

"Ah. What are you-"

"Like before, but without trying to choke me to death. You can see with your hands, this way."

For the first time since the desert, Kakyoin is grateful for the darkness. He doesn't have to worry about the heat rising to his cheeks. 

Jojo's pulse is completely steady under Kakyoin's finger. He's closed his eyes, and kept on his hat. His face is relaxed, just like when Kakyoin draws the play of sunlight and shadow dancing across it. His lips - Kakyoin spends so much time watching them for every nuance that gives more meaning to his words than anything in his voice, but Kakyoin still can't draw them properly - have quirked up into a slight smile. Kakyoin can feel a quick puff of air over his fingers.

"Tickles," Kakyoin feels Jojo say more than hears it.

"Bear it," Kakyoin says. "This was your idea."

Jojo's earrings are smooth, interesting moments against the softness of his earlobes. Kakyoin is never going to be able to draw anything again but Jojo's face. 

"So beautiful," Kakyoin breathes, before he has a chance to think. It's too late to bite the words back.

"Thank you," mouths Jojo, with sincerity fluttering high in his cheekbones where Kakyoin's thumbs rest.

"What is your hat even made of?" asks Kakyoin, changing the subject but also curious. "It even feels like it melts right into your hair."

"It's just a hat," grumbles Jojo, with lighthearted irritation jumping in his neck.

"Nonsense. Why are you wearing it to bed, anyway?"

"Because it's my hat and I want to."

Kakyoin digs his fingers much harder than necessary into the angle of Jotaro's jawbone. Jojo makes an amused growl of protest, shaking his head free of Kakyoin's hands.

"We should try to sleep. I'll be okay." Kakyoin will be. He hasn't been so relaxed in the dark since before he lost his sight.

Jojo hums assent. Kakyoin is asleep before he can respond.