Pairing: PruCan
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Word Count: 490
Summary: The healing process is neither fast nor easy, but little reminders make all the difference.
"What's this one from?"
Gilbert shivers. He is bare, in all forms of the word. Matthew kneels before him on their bed. Sometimes his curls tickle Gilbert's skin. Normally Gilbert would comb his fingers through those locks, but now he fists them in the sheets instead.
Today has been a hard day.
Matthew's finger hovers over a silver line on Gilbert's shoulder. Gilbert tries to focus on the question without letting the words take him over. It's not one of those scars; he shouldn't be having this reaction. But today has been hard and he's not sure what Matthew's plan is just yet, and it's making him nervous. He doesn't like feeling nervous around Matthew.
"Bayonet."
"Who's?"
Matthew's breath his warm. Gilbert shivers again, feels those amethyst eyes on him. He doesn't like feeling nervous around Matthew. Matthew is his safety net, the only thing he can be sure of.
"Roddy's."
Matthew touches the scar, tracing it with the tip of his index finger. It feels odd, the sense of touch gone from the wounded flesh - he can only feel the edges of Matthew's finger. The finger finishes its path and leaves. Curls tickle Gilbert's chest, and then Matthew is kissing the silver mark on Gilbert's shoulder. Gilbert finally looks at him.
Matthew pulls away to meet his eyes. Gilbert is squinting at him, searching. Still nervous. Unsure.
Matthew's hand hovers over his collar bone.
"And this one?"
Gilbert doesn't look away. Matthew is watching him with the same patience he always has. It's a reminder of the safety Gilbert usually feels here, in this bed, but it's not quite enough.
"A horse."
"Who's?"
His voice is so delicate. Quiet, sympathetic, patient. All the things Gilbert has come to expect from Matthew. He wills it to comfort him, wishes he could sink into those arms and forget today, but something self-destructive is begging him to build another wall, and he's listening. He's been torn by differing opinions before, when he had citizens. He feels as though a civil war is stirring in his dead bones.
He doesn't answer the question. Matthew leans forward to kiss this scar as well.
There's a finger tracing his heart, and his breath jerks in his throat. There are many lines here, some still raw. Beneath it all lays burnt tissue. Gilbert holds his breath, unable to take in air.
Matthew says nothing. He kisses each line, slow, gentle, careful. Deliberate, and protective. Gilbert tries to breath. The air catches in a sob.
Matthew finds his hand and entwines their fingers. Gilbert breaks.
He is sobbing quietly into Matthew's shoulder, clinging to his hand like a lifeline. He is his lifeline. It's been a hard day after months of good days, but Matthew is still here.
Matthew rests his chin on Gilbert's shoulder. He is still here, and he's not leaving any time soon.
Gilbert's grip eases as his breaths steady. He's safe here, in this bed.
fin