[ Viktor struggles not to let his focus wander to their hands stacked atop Jayce's shoulder, the gentle warmth of it, the way Jayce's fingers subtly curl around Viktor's to hold on to them. Physical affection has always been so easy for Jayce to dish out, and Viktor is wondering if he should have made more of an effort to return it in those moments when his partner needed support.
Listening to the story certainly serves its purpose; Viktor never would have imagined Jayce doing such things. So much had happened while he'd been unconscious, most of it still a mystery of which he hadn't been able to fill in all of the blanks. Still, Jayce choosing to pursue violence is a shock, and the devastating result of it doubly so. Viktor's hand falls away from Jayce's shoulder to gently cover his mouth to hide his shock. He knows that there was no excuse of questioning why a child had been present in a Shimmer factory, not when so much that happened in Zaun was so easily questioned by the privileged standards of Piltover. Even if he knows that Jayce would have assumed that only adults would have been present, that doesn't absolve him of the guilt. ]
Jayce, I— [ He swallows down a lump in his throat thinking about how there were just as many dead children of Zaun as there were orphans roaming its streets. ] I'm sorry I brought it up, but thank you for telling me.
[ jayce wasn't sure anymore, if it had been all of his frustrations pent into a dangerous bomb, or the easy sway of a devastating power in his hands. that he built. he created, against his better judgement and especially against viktor's. it didn't feel much like violence when there'd been a detachment surrounding who he was attacking— monstrously changed shimmer addicts in sturdy armor, no different than attack dogs. there were hardly any "men" left in them to account for.
so it'd been easy to pull the lever with no remorse. it was easy to swing and shatter their bones. he was doing the right thing. he was protecting all those people looking up to him for reprive from literal monsters, and jayce had a hard time saying no when what he knew how to do best was provide. he could never not pay back what the mage did when he called, and he could've indeed just let him die. the world would have been better off.
he still keeps seeing that child's face, and his gut wrenches when he remembers all of them, the child workers— viktor could've been one of them. ]
—I didn't mean to.
[ it's what he could manage to say, a quiet mutter pressed against a hand propping his face up from a lean into it, his elbow on his leg. when the switch happened, jayce himself was not aware of it: despite a younger appearance with a considerably lesser amount of facial hair, he looks bedraggled. viktor didn't need to apologize for anything. he asked. jayce would give him everything he wanted, within his reach. ]
You were right all along. [ jayce rubs his face, doesn't realize neither question that he no longer sparks or glows, as if he's always been llike this— a tired mass clutching viktor's arm like he'd hold his cane. ] A vision wouldn't tell you that, would it?
I know. [ Even if he hadn't been there, even if he's just hearing about all of this for the first time, the one thing that Viktor knows is that Jayce would never intensionally harm a child. The strain in his voice just solidifies that fact, the obvious weight of guilt in Jayce's tone, the shame in having to share it.
Jayce leans away from him, hides in his hand, and Viktor's chest clenches. His light dims literally to reflect the figurative cloud hanging over him now, and Viktor leans against his side to wrap an arm around his waist. Resting his cheek against Jayce's shoulder, he gently rubs his side with one hand as the other reaches for Jayce's to pull away from his face. ]
A painful but effective solution. [ He doesn't need to say it aloud, but he would never invent a situation like that for Jayce to have experienced during the time they were separated by Viktor's coma. ]
[ his chagrin is obliterated upon a touch that stuns him out of his own immersion, to find viktor comforting him and it's— it certainly feels surreal. was he, perhaps, the one seeing visions this whole time? was this his dream? how terribly cruel, if he could think to consider this a dream at all.
jayce gazes sideways toward viktor until their eyes meet, and once they do, he can't exactly pull them away. he takes a good long look, the nimble fingers prying his hand from his face now at the reception of the curl of jayce's fingers around them. and just . . . settling there. until, upon the surface of both their legs, jayce is cupping the side of viktor's hands into a gentle hold. the last time he held it in any way, he was holding on for dear life.
it feels like it's been so long, since he's seen him this way. it makes jayce painfully nostalgic, and as if . . . he shouldn't take it for granted. not even the mole under his eye, or the one above his lip. his line of vision flutters quickly to burn it to memory, down and up, almost too quick to notice if one weren't also hypervigilint, or staring back, or both. ]
[ The physical affection certainly seems to do the trick in distracting the both of them from the tragic story. Jayce is so warm everywhere they touch, that same dreamy fuzzy quality spreading through points of contact like the feeling of his foot falling asleep, only far more pleasant. Maybe they're sharing a dream together, then, if Jayce is made up of colors that seem to react to his mood and Viktor is in a body of picture-perfect health that he'd never had. It could be a different part of arcane space, one that he'd never found on his own, one shaped by both of them together.
Humming softly, pensive but also absentminded, he turns his hands over in Jayce's to thread their fingers together. The color is returning to him, pinks and oranges like the clouds of a sunrise, maybe showing that he's not so lost in the sorrow, a little more hopeful. When Viktor looks up from their hands, his eyes widen at the way his partner is staring as if... as if memorizing something that he's scared of losing. If they wake up from this dream, Viktor fears losing this feeling, too. So he straightens up a bit, sliding along Jayce's side, so he can get close enough to press his forehead to that glowing warmth of Jayce's, noses bumping slightly, and then—
The plunge back into dark waters. Sinking. Drowning. Sleep. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Listening to the story certainly serves its purpose; Viktor never would have imagined Jayce doing such things. So much had happened while he'd been unconscious, most of it still a mystery of which he hadn't been able to fill in all of the blanks. Still, Jayce choosing to pursue violence is a shock, and the devastating result of it doubly so. Viktor's hand falls away from Jayce's shoulder to gently cover his mouth to hide his shock. He knows that there was no excuse of questioning why a child had been present in a Shimmer factory, not when so much that happened in Zaun was so easily questioned by the privileged standards of Piltover. Even if he knows that Jayce would have assumed that only adults would have been present, that doesn't absolve him of the guilt. ]
Jayce, I— [ He swallows down a lump in his throat thinking about how there were just as many dead children of Zaun as there were orphans roaming its streets. ] I'm sorry I brought it up, but thank you for telling me.
no subject
so it'd been easy to pull the lever with no remorse. it was easy to swing and shatter their bones. he was doing the right thing. he was protecting all those people looking up to him for reprive from literal monsters, and jayce had a hard time saying no when what he knew how to do best was provide. he could never not pay back what the mage did when he called, and he could've indeed just let him die. the world would have been better off.
he still keeps seeing that child's face, and his gut wrenches when he remembers all of them, the child workers— viktor could've been one of them. ]
—I didn't mean to.
[ it's what he could manage to say, a quiet mutter pressed against a hand propping his face up from a lean into it, his elbow on his leg. when the switch happened, jayce himself was not aware of it: despite a younger appearance with a considerably lesser amount of facial hair, he looks bedraggled. viktor didn't need to apologize for anything. he asked. jayce would give him everything he wanted, within his reach. ]
You were right all along. [ jayce rubs his face, doesn't realize neither question that he no longer sparks or glows, as if he's always been llike this— a tired mass clutching viktor's arm like he'd hold his cane. ] A vision wouldn't tell you that, would it?
no subject
Jayce leans away from him, hides in his hand, and Viktor's chest clenches. His light dims literally to reflect the figurative cloud hanging over him now, and Viktor leans against his side to wrap an arm around his waist. Resting his cheek against Jayce's shoulder, he gently rubs his side with one hand as the other reaches for Jayce's to pull away from his face. ]
A painful but effective solution. [ He doesn't need to say it aloud, but he would never invent a situation like that for Jayce to have experienced during the time they were separated by Viktor's coma. ]
no subject
jayce gazes sideways toward viktor until their eyes meet, and once they do, he can't exactly pull them away. he takes a good long look, the nimble fingers prying his hand from his face now at the reception of the curl of jayce's fingers around them. and just . . . settling there. until, upon the surface of both their legs, jayce is cupping the side of viktor's hands into a gentle hold. the last time he held it in any way, he was holding on for dear life.
it feels like it's been so long, since he's seen him this way. it makes jayce painfully nostalgic, and as if . . . he shouldn't take it for granted. not even the mole under his eye, or the one above his lip. his line of vision flutters quickly to burn it to memory, down and up, almost too quick to notice if one weren't also hypervigilint, or staring back, or both. ]
no subject
Humming softly, pensive but also absentminded, he turns his hands over in Jayce's to thread their fingers together. The color is returning to him, pinks and oranges like the clouds of a sunrise, maybe showing that he's not so lost in the sorrow, a little more hopeful. When Viktor looks up from their hands, his eyes widen at the way his partner is staring as if... as if memorizing something that he's scared of losing. If they wake up from this dream, Viktor fears losing this feeling, too. So he straightens up a bit, sliding along Jayce's side, so he can get close enough to press his forehead to that glowing warmth of Jayce's, noses bumping slightly, and then—
The plunge back into dark waters. Sinking. Drowning. Sleep. ]