#74: Help Me
Game: FE6
Characters: Elphin, Percival. And yes, I am in love with this pairing.
Warnings/Notes: Also a one word meme challenge, word being "perfectionist".
Percival's patience has always been astounding. It amazes Elphin, how he manages to stay so calm, so still. He hears no movement, at least, and feels no tension beneath his fingers, save for the usual press of Percival's lips into a frown.
He had heard the same frown in Percival's voice when he finally noticed – "Have I offended you, Pr-" that slight hesitation, that careful avoidance – "Elphin? You will not look at me." Some other man might have cursed, or shouted, or spewed soppy words of pity at the quiet explanation. Percival had not. He had bowed his head the slightest bit – Elphin heard the rustle of his hair, the drop of his cape – and promised softly, "You have my eyes. Always."
Elphin almost touches those eyes now, but he stops before he reaches them, letting his fingers stay close . The skin there is softer than he remembers, thin and fragile, like crepe paper and silk. He can readily imagine the jut of Percival's cheekbones, the strong lines of his slightly furrowed brows, but he can't quite envision the knight general's eyes looking so tired.
He feels Percival's long lashes – the sort of thing a courtier would pride himself upon, the sort of thing Percival would never notice – brush against his fingertips in a flutter, and he can almost picture that. Percival, casting his gaze to the side and lidding his eyes, clenching his teeth, setting his sharp jaw.
"Forgive my forwardness," Percival starts, his voice hushed and low, as if the words might somehow betray his master, "but you seem unwell. Perhaps –" he pauses, and Elphin can feel his breath on his hands – "it is time you rest."
"I am well, General." Percival's frown tightens at the title; Elphin can feel it in the purse of his cheeks and the tension at his brow. "I just wish to remember you."
"Remember me?"
"I want to remember what you look like."
He wants to get every detail right in his mind: the shape of Percival's eyes, the soft, subtle curve of his mouth, the gentle slope of his throat and shoulders, but it isn't quite right yet. The little inconsistencies – the tired skin, the slight graze of stubble at his cheeks, the indent of a scar at his chin – are too imperfect. He isn't sure he wants to remember Percival like this, but he can't quite place what he had been like before. Perhaps this is all he'll ever have. Perhaps, in the end, he is to blame.
"Take as long as you need," Percival murmurs through his frown, just as Elphin pulls his fragile hands away and smiles.
"That," he says finally, "was enough."