His eyes narrow more. He doesn't want to be concerned but he is. He hasn't seen Tsuna like this. Wobbling like that. With that strange look on his face, that old language on his lips and that name that isn't his. Tsuna seems so unsteady and he leaves his window side to walk around the desk where Tsuna has slumped.
He's trying to work out why Tsuna kept calling him the wrong name. He had touched the ring once. Worn it one time. He had seen what was inside. He had only touched it briefly before the Ring and 7 of the 8 within declared him unworthy and it rejected him. He had perhaps dodged a bullet.
"Tsuna?" He slides next to the man and his fingertips lightly stroke against the back of Tsuna's neck. It's more than just a simple fond touch. It's the caress of a concerned lover. Then because he's unsure and he has seen the inside of the Sky Ring, he whispers, "Giotto? If you want me in bed with you, I'll go. But you know that there's business I can only do in the dead of the night." He's worried though. He's worried he's wrong. But even more concerned that he's right.
'Tsuna'. That word again. Maybe he's more tired than he thought, and is misunderstanding something. In the depths of his mind, a part of Tsuna stirs and disrupts the layer of intermingled dreams and foreign memories swathed over his mind.
Yet it slips under again when those rough fingers glad along his neck, and he shivers slightly. The feelings he has confessed of his cousin. The urges. If only he didn't touch him like he did sometimes, it would be so much easier to ignore them. This is a trial, he thinks sometimes. Something sent from up on high to see if he's deserving of the success he's made out of a tiny band of those who had enough of the injustice levied out by others.
And there's his name. His proper name, not the nickname Ricardo murmurs so fondly at times and yells at the top of his lungs at others. He must really be bothering him.
"I know," he answers back softly, reaching to take that large hand in his. "It scares me sometimes, you know. The work you do when it's so late, sometimes with not even the moon to watch you. It feels like I'll lose you to the night." Just one reason out of many to hate when they argue.
He's right. He's right and Xanxus almost wants to shake Tsuna. To shake him and demand his Tsuna back. He doesn't know what that would do to him. More than that, he doesn't know how to handle this. This man who thinks he's someone else. This man who has been dead for nearly 200 years.
His jaw clenches and he looks down to the hand that takes his. His eyes land on the ring. If he tried to take it, he wondered what would happen. But at the same time, he is worried that if he does take it, Tsuna might get stuck like this.
He tries to remember those journals he had poured over as a young boy. He had been so obsessed with the Second. Tries to think about how to handle the man that had looked at him inside that ring and refused him. Xanxus shifts his hold on the man's hand, lightly making little circles against the fragile insides of his wrist with a thumb.
He has to remember that this is still Tsuna. No matter who is there right now. He looks down at the man and that long tail falls over his shoulder.
He swallows a little and murmurs. "It's a little too late to worry about that, don't you think? I've made already my peace with it." That, at least, is very true. He'll let Tsuna be the noon day sky. He is fine ruling the night and making it so that Tsuna's sky keeps shining.
The words are still in that old Italian, that hasn't changed, but at their core... They're true regardless if it's the regrets of a dead man or the fears of one alive. Giotto Vongola and Sawada Tsunayoshi are two entirely different people, familial connections and too-good-to-be-coincidences aside. In some areas, however, they are alike.
Their fears for their loved ones is such an area.
His eyes drift shut as his wrist is stroked, and sleep is such a temptation again. "Life is too short for us to argue so much. Not when I care for you so much."
He keeps that small motion going. It reminds him that this is still Tsuna. No matter who it is talking through him, Tsuna is still in there somewhere. More than that, there's a soft hurt, a memory of those days he spent as a child pouring through Secondo's journals. Reading about the man's life. About the man he had somehow inherited power from.
He doesn't think he can be that man either. He doesn't even know if trying would be fair to Tsuna. Still, he wonders if there was a way to bring the man back. To so that, he'll try to remember all those things he read. "You know I don't enjoy it either. I hate fighting with you. But he's right." There's huge sections of those journals about Spade, about all those things Spade convinced the Second to believe. Things Xanxus understands aren't really that wrong, because it was what made them what they are today. "We'll never have enough power to do what you want if you're afraid to make sacrifices. It's because I love you so much that I'm willing to do what you won't."
That makes Tsuna stir again instead of drifting in the strange place on the edge of sleep. Brow furrowing, he tries to tug his wrist away. Still tired, still not truly there, it's a half-effort. With Xanxus' strength, there's no reason to let him carry through.
Still, he tries. Tries because there's a hazily miserable but dark look on his face now.
"We're doing it again," he murmurs, a shimmer of anger becoming apparent now as well. "We're- you know why he's pushing for that kind of thing, it's because..." Pushing himself up to his feet, he has to pause because the world swims, just like his memories. An enormous ballroom, a ruined and abandoned theater- both seem to mix for a second. "Trapped... in the past. He's trapped in the past and thinks all this bloodshed will fix things..."
He keeps his grip strong and he notes the way the other sways just a little. He knows they're rehashing dead men's arguments but he can't help it. Maybe it's because Ricardo had been his hero. Or maybe because there's a whisper of that man within him somewhere. Something that had awoken when he had worn that ring for those mere minutes. He knows but he also knows that it's because of the things Ricardo did that the Vongola were as strong as they were today. But he also knows that Tsuna had vowed to fix that. To fix the terrible violence, the killing, the darkness.
He sighs. "We are doing it again. When you are far too tired to really put up a good fight." He doesn't know if this is something he did, but Xanxus is bold enough to do it anyway. Just sweep the smaller man off his feet and up into a carry. "So what we're going to do is we're going to put a pin in this for the morning and you are going to go back to bed."
For all his words, a very much Tsuna-like squeak erupts from him as he's hauled up. "Ricci!" is, unfortunately, still on the heels of it.
"Don't... Don't." He flops his hand against Xanxus' shoulder. "You always do this to throw me out..." And they're not even close to that level of an argument yet, the foggy memories say. No one is yelling, and nothing has been thrown. Although somehow that seems odd. Does he really yell or throw things like that? Tsuna goes quiet, the dissonance a little stronger now as he stays curled up against Xanxus.
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badliifechoiice22016-01-03 08:14 pm
no subject
He's trying to work out why Tsuna kept calling him the wrong name. He had touched the ring once. Worn it one time. He had seen what was inside. He had only touched it briefly before the Ring and 7 of the 8 within declared him unworthy and it rejected him. He had perhaps dodged a bullet.
"Tsuna?" He slides next to the man and his fingertips lightly stroke against the back of Tsuna's neck. It's more than just a simple fond touch. It's the caress of a concerned lover. Then because he's unsure and he has seen the inside of the Sky Ring, he whispers, "Giotto? If you want me in bed with you, I'll go. But you know that there's business I can only do in the dead of the night." He's worried though. He's worried he's wrong. But even more concerned that he's right.
no subject
Yet it slips under again when those rough fingers glad along his neck, and he shivers slightly. The feelings he has confessed of his cousin. The urges. If only he didn't touch him like he did sometimes, it would be so much easier to ignore them. This is a trial, he thinks sometimes. Something sent from up on high to see if he's deserving of the success he's made out of a tiny band of those who had enough of the injustice levied out by others.
And there's his name. His proper name, not the nickname Ricardo murmurs so fondly at times and yells at the top of his lungs at others. He must really be bothering him.
"I know," he answers back softly, reaching to take that large hand in his. "It scares me sometimes, you know. The work you do when it's so late, sometimes with not even the moon to watch you. It feels like I'll lose you to the night." Just one reason out of many to hate when they argue.
no subject
His jaw clenches and he looks down to the hand that takes his. His eyes land on the ring. If he tried to take it, he wondered what would happen. But at the same time, he is worried that if he does take it, Tsuna might get stuck like this.
He tries to remember those journals he had poured over as a young boy. He had been so obsessed with the Second. Tries to think about how to handle the man that had looked at him inside that ring and refused him. Xanxus shifts his hold on the man's hand, lightly making little circles against the fragile insides of his wrist with a thumb.
He has to remember that this is still Tsuna. No matter who is there right now. He looks down at the man and that long tail falls over his shoulder.
He swallows a little and murmurs. "It's a little too late to worry about that, don't you think? I've made already my peace with it." That, at least, is very true. He'll let Tsuna be the noon day sky. He is fine ruling the night and making it so that Tsuna's sky keeps shining.
no subject
The words are still in that old Italian, that hasn't changed, but at their core... They're true regardless if it's the regrets of a dead man or the fears of one alive. Giotto Vongola and Sawada Tsunayoshi are two entirely different people, familial connections and too-good-to-be-coincidences aside. In some areas, however, they are alike.
Their fears for their loved ones is such an area.
His eyes drift shut as his wrist is stroked, and sleep is such a temptation again. "Life is too short for us to argue so much. Not when I care for you so much."
no subject
He doesn't think he can be that man either. He doesn't even know if trying would be fair to Tsuna. Still, he wonders if there was a way to bring the man back. To so that, he'll try to remember all those things he read. "You know I don't enjoy it either. I hate fighting with you. But he's right." There's huge sections of those journals about Spade, about all those things Spade convinced the Second to believe. Things Xanxus understands aren't really that wrong, because it was what made them what they are today. "We'll never have enough power to do what you want if you're afraid to make sacrifices. It's because I love you so much that I'm willing to do what you won't."
no subject
Still, he tries. Tries because there's a hazily miserable but dark look on his face now.
"We're doing it again," he murmurs, a shimmer of anger becoming apparent now as well. "We're- you know why he's pushing for that kind of thing, it's because..." Pushing himself up to his feet, he has to pause because the world swims, just like his memories. An enormous ballroom, a ruined and abandoned theater- both seem to mix for a second. "Trapped... in the past. He's trapped in the past and thinks all this bloodshed will fix things..."
no subject
He sighs. "We are doing it again. When you are far too tired to really put up a good fight." He doesn't know if this is something he did, but Xanxus is bold enough to do it anyway. Just sweep the smaller man off his feet and up into a carry. "So what we're going to do is we're going to put a pin in this for the morning and you are going to go back to bed."
no subject
"Don't... Don't." He flops his hand against Xanxus' shoulder. "You always do this to throw me out..." And they're not even close to that level of an argument yet, the foggy memories say. No one is yelling, and nothing has been thrown. Although somehow that seems odd. Does he really yell or throw things like that? Tsuna goes quiet, the dissonance a little stronger now as he stays curled up against Xanxus.
"...You aren't going, are you?"