(he lets himself be guided, the throbbing pain the back of his head too much of a hindrance to really care what's going on around him. he sits down on the couch, slowly, making as much effort as he can not too move too much or in the wrong way. his head rests against klavier's shoulder for support, giving himself time to steady his breathing, try and focus on something other than the pain.
like all of klavier. his smell, the feel of his skin, how his arms and shoulders are strong enough to support him, even when he could so easily crumble. how klavier is the one who's spent only a hald hour trying to fit the pieces of apollo back together, and done more for him now than the entire world has all week.
arms lower slowly to wrap around klavier's sides, pulling himself a little closer after having a few minutes of allowing the pain to die down. he doesn't raise his head quite yet, still seeing spots dance along closed eyelids.) I'm... not really going to be a good boyfriend for a while. S-Sorry.
no subject
like all of klavier. his smell, the feel of his skin, how his arms and shoulders are strong enough to support him, even when he could so easily crumble. how klavier is the one who's spent only a hald hour trying to fit the pieces of apollo back together, and done more for him now than the entire world has all week.
arms lower slowly to wrap around klavier's sides, pulling himself a little closer after having a few minutes of allowing the pain to die down. he doesn't raise his head quite yet, still seeing spots dance along closed eyelids.) I'm... not really going to be a good boyfriend for a while. S-Sorry.