a/n: (starts out writing a short drabble for description practice) (ends up with almost 1.4k worth of corny/confusing/unedited word vomit at 12.30am a few days later) yeah i dont know either
trigger warning for implied self-harm and mentions of blood. also kind of... incredibly personal... /sweats and rolls into a hole bye
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adore
he can't see himself the way she sees him.
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Rin trails her fingertips along the length of his legs, observing the small old scrapes that tell of his clumsy moments in childhood, the faint grey bruises that litter his knees like relics from long, long ago. In her mind she pictures a tiny Len waddling around with a shy grin tucked in the corner of his mouth, and can't help the brief upturn of her own lips.
She brushes past his hipbones, the ridges jutting out like they're ready to tear through his skin like paper. He's always been like this – thin and lanky and bony no matter how much he eats, completely unrepentant as he consumes the entirety of her fridge's contents. A real glutton, this boy is.
Carefully Rin allows her cool fingers to venture upwards, following the slight curves of his stomach and ribs. Pauses when she notices the barely-there quiver under her touch.
He's trembling.
"You can stop me anytime, you know," the blonde murmurs, soft as an angel's first breath. She doesn't have to look up to know his gaze is trained intently on her face – you have such expressive eyes, he'd told her, so big and bright and beautiful that I can't look away. "I won't mind."
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the slight movement of his head.
No, no, I'm fine.
Rin allows a tiny frown to wrinkle her brows then. Len's always been far too indulgent towards her whims, letting her do as she pleases even when he's feeling uncomfortable. He doesn't get mad at her, doesn't get upset. Doesn't stop her, doesn't even try to.
She doesn't understand why.
Spurred by a sudden surge of determination to raise a reaction out of the boy, Rin redirects her attention onto him once more; this time she swings one leg over and settles herself snugly on his lap. From this new vantage point, she can see everything: his expression of vague surprise, the sharp inhale that makes his figure tense up for a split second –
His battle scars from a well-worn internal war, all scattered across his torso in a sea of shattered stars.
Some are old, the girl notices, give or take a couple of years. Wordlessly she traces over a cluster of long, straight lines spaced close together just below his second rib, like he's raked his own sharp nails in the same spot over and over and over until his skin gives in and bleeds.
Others are new, like the one scabbing near his right areola in an unmistakable shade of fresh blood. I tend to pick at the various flaws on my body when I'm upset, he'd admitted once, I'm sorry.
And – and it saddens her, just a little bit, just a little more, knowing that the person she loves so much can't see himself the way she sees him.
She leans forward and grazes her knuckles against the general area of his healing wound, careful not to touch it outright. "Did it hurt?"
"Mm, at first." A safe reply, naturally, always safe and careful whenever it comes to her; he's aware of how much of a shit liar he can be under the honest glow of her gaze.
But he can't escape – Rin won't let him.
"And now?"
Len's smile is thin as he closes his eyes.
"The wound is gone. It doesn't bleed anymore, either. It'll leave nothing but a scar soon enough."
Just another lasting mark to add to his collection of bad memories – another lasting mark he doesn't deserve one bit.
And in that moment of realisation, she shatters.
Rin ducks her head to let her hair spill forward and shadow her expression, bites down hard on the inside of her cheek and screws her eyes shut and exhales a shaky breath of air, but it's no use: the waterworks have begun and they aren't stopping any time soon.
She's always been like this – intuitive and empathetic and quick to lose her head no matter how much she tries to stay grounded, foolishly earnest as she offers the world what's left of her heart in the centre of her small palms. A dumb crybaby, this girl is.
"Hey," Len coaxes, because of course he knows she's crying when she's trying her best to hide it, goddammit, "hey, don't cry. Don't cry, Rin, don't cry for someone like me."
When she only sobs harder, he props himself up on one elbow and gathers her into his arms without a shred of hesitation. The girl feels small, so small; briefly she entertains the thought of crumbling to dust if he hugs any tighter. "Shh, Rin," he whispers, smoothing down her hair. "It's okay. Don't cry for me anymore. I'm okay. Shh, it's okay, it's okay..."
But it's not okay. None of this is bloody okay, not when he's hurting, always hurting, not when she can't do a single fucking thing to heal his pain, not when there's only so much she's able to do before the world scoffs at her that she can't fix everything, for the love of god, stop trying so hard –
"You're the biggest idiot I've ever met," Rin mumbles harshly into his shoulder once her moment of teary-eyed vulnerability passes. It's an insult that's scathing in its own right, but familiar and comforting to the both of them nevertheless.
"Yeah."
"I still can't believe how someone as bright as you can be so downright stupid sometimes."
"Yeah, yeah."
Rin pulls away, then. Takes in the features she knows by heart: the soft golden yellow of his hair, the moonshine glimmer to his eyes – hell, even right down to that big freckle on his cheek he hates so much and covers up with her concealer when he thinks she's not looking.
I adore you, the girl thinks with unwavering conviction, though she'll never tell him. She can throw all kinds of offhanded shade and roundabout compliments and snide remarks in his direction without batting an eyelid, but this is something she'll never tell him.
I adore you, and you mean so much to me, so, so much.
She reaches a hand up to run her knuckles along the soft line of his jaw, coming to a thoughtful pause when she reaches his chin and letting her thumb rest on his bottom lip. Maybe the stutter of her heartbeat will give her away and he'll clear the air between them once and for all, maybe he's oblivious enough to let her pretend he's hers to keep just a little while longer.
Maybe she's not ready to face the result of either possibility regardless.
And – and while Rin's never had the best of judgement when it comes to Len, often tossing caution to the wind and rationality out the window for him, even she can't explain the burst of affection that prompts her to ghost her lips past his like a pair of fluttering butterfly wings.
Perhaps it's just a starlight secret mark to add to his collection of kinder memories – a starlight secret mark he most certainly deserves from her.
This doesn't count as a real kiss, though – not quite, not yet, oh, no, not when she doesn't know where they are or where they're going from here. Not when they're teetering on tightropes above a bottomless void, not when they're treading on foreign battlefields with everything to lose.
"Are you – " Len swallows thickly when his flimsy attempt at a light question catches in his throat. Tries again, this time looking anywhere but her mouth. "Are you feeling any better?"
Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for asking, is right at the tip of Rin's tongue, the kneejerk lie that's guaranteed to put all his worries at ease, simple and easy – but she's been real and raw and honest with him right from the start, and as much as she can't bear to burden him with her burgeoning feelings, lying to him will only be more harm than help.
The kneejerk lie is the safe answer. The wrong answer.
"I'll be alright," she says earnestly in the end. Len gives her a searching look, knowing there's more to that answer than she's letting him in on –
But Rin just smiles, distant as a daydream, and keeps the rest of it close to her heart.
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(we'll be alright.)
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disclaimer: i do not own Vocaloid.