halloforigin | Klavier Gavin [OPEN]

Klavier Gavin [OPEN]

Klavier Gavin a catch-all rp post

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(however much it would normally make apollo smile in joy to hear those words, hear klavier call him by name instead of a stupid nickname (though he's grown fond of it over the months). but he's unable to even give klavier a somewhat reassuring smile. he can only nod through his tears and wails, at least confirming that yes, he heard klavier's words, he believes them, and no matter how much he's sobbing in this moment, he is glad to know.

there's no protest to being pulled into another hug, in fact, he all too willingly lets himself be wrapped up in klavier's arms, far more reliant on his gentle touch, his warm comfort, his loving words.

hardly any time might have passed between now and the previous embrace, but when you go through losing your best friend, not having work as a distraction anymore, a notice of the funeral, and fearing the one you love actually despises you, he's become necessitous of comfort. he makes an effort, feeling the tender and soft touch of klavier, to crack his eyes open, gaze up nothing but a warm and accepting face, one of his own shaky hands reaching up in return to cup his cheek. physical confirmation that klavier is here and saying these things now when apollo needs them most.

his eyes are still spilling over with tears, dripping off his face in droves, but he looks up wet and red eyed, doing whatever he can to make his sobs die down. he trembles to hold them back, gaze locked firmly on klavier, and he nods.) I-I'll... I'll be fiiiiiiiine...

(the last word is drawn out in a sob again, arms wrapping back around klavier as he cries into his chest. his weeping has mellowed compared to before. but he tries to believe in it. maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but he'll be fine.

klavier is here. he'll be fine.)

You'll be fine.

[He chokes out the last of his tears, wiping them with his sleeve as he pulls Apollo closer. Arms secure themselves around Apollo's sides, supporting him as his face buries into his chest, feeling tears and sound soaked up into it. He knew Apollo got his message the moment he answered back, and that alone only amplified how much he loved this man. He could say it all day--and let's be real, he probably would--stroking his hair and keeping him close by as he waits for Apollo to get every last ounce of mourning out. This was his time to do that.

And Klavier would make sure he wasn't alone.

There's no place he'd rather be than right here, holding onto the pieces of Apollo that had broken. Only this time, he felt he could place them together again. Maybe even make it something stronger.　Fill the cracks in Apollo's life with gold, bring out the beauty in his hardships and make it so he can take another step in life with his head held high. Join him back together not to hide what was broken or replace it, but create something new out of the cracks.

He'd be the gold. Apollo was the entire vase.

Klavier's hand moves to shift underneath Apollo's face, reaching to pull his head up ever so slightly. It's only then that he feels the dampness of his shirt, stained by tears and wrinkled by Apollo's face. But he doesn't care. It was worth it for Apollo--tilting it up just enough to crane his head down....and place a kiss right on that forehead. It was only Apollo's hairline and hairstyle that made it seem so pronounced, and if he opted to wear his bangs forward, it wouldn't even be noticable. But here, Klavier plants a kiss on it, holding his lips there in a comforting gesture as his body shifts down, allowing for gravity if Apollo ever wanted to lean against him.

He'd be fine. But it was okay to not be right now.]

Herr Forehead.

[It's a whisper, lips brushing against his forehead as he speaks.]

Is pizza okay tonight?

(he nods at klavier' repeat of his words, another silent confirmation that he was heard, that he was believed. apollo is making a note to himself now that no matter what happens, no matter how his bracelet might react to klavier's words, he'll trust him. apollo is placing his fragile heart of glass in klavier's, trusting him above all else to care for it.

maybe it's the guilt on top of everything else making him cry this painfully. how could he ever doubt him? klavier's actions have never once implied that he felt any ill will towards the attorney. hell, they had always reflected just the opposite.

then again, perhaps grief can do that to a person. a cracked and breaking heart is a hard thing to heal, especially when the one person who has the capabilities to heal it is no longer here. it makes you doubt the world, doubt your own strength to stand up stronger and face challenges with renewed vigor. apollo wasn't at that stage yet, he still needed to grieve, to let his emotions out to properly cope with them. but this time, at least, he had someone here to help piece his heart back together. he wasn't alone this time.

the kiss to his forehead earns a shaky sigh of comfort, letting himself lean against klavier and taking in as much love filled support as he's willing to give. arms wrap around as he sniffles, deep breaths to finally calm down, let the tears and wails subside to sniffles and a quiet, slow stream of tears.

even his nickname somehow sounds better now, and he's sure even that lifted his spirits even by the slightest bit. another calming sigh as he allows himself this moment to lay against a treasured loved one, a silent and desperate hope that he won't leave, as well.) Pizza sounds good.

(he shifts, just so on the couch, enough to make him and klavier rest against each other comfortably and wrapped in each others arms. but he winces, a low whine from the back of his throat with a concerned stare down at his arms. it occurs to him that he might have been moving too much, and however much it pains him emotionally and physically, he begins to rise away from klavier and off the couch.) Um... I'll be right back. I've gotta get something.

[He can't blame Apollo, honestly. Everything in his life was being taken away, and Klavier was just one small part of it. Any doubt cast, any darkness seen in what little light the man had left...it's no wonder he went for the worst. Why would anything good happen to him?

A question Klavier often asked himself. Why would Apollo ever want his love? After all, Kristoph didn't, Daryan had flat out rejected it at one point. And both were behind bars now, using him and hiding behind him in their own schemes.

But here they both are, basking in the open heart of the other, soaking in whatever they were given. He'd allow Apollo to cry on him until his tears ran dry, and he'd be here to clean his face off, gel his hair, make sure he ate correctly. That's what a boyfriend would do, isn't it?

And with those lips pressed against his forehead, he can't help but smile. Boyfriend. That had a really nice ring to it, didn't it. He waits silently for Apollo's answer, one hand still holding the flyer he'd grabbed from the kitchen. Among soft sobs and sniffles, he hears his answer, and he can't help but settle more against the man, letting Apollo adjust in turn.

But then that's something he doesn't expect--the wincing, the whining, the way he seems to pull away ever so slightly, and this time not like he'd done with the kiss. This was more resigned...like he was in pain.]

Is something wrong, Apollo?

[Blue eyes cast themselves deep into Apollo's brown, searching for an answer.]

(there's the urge to prevent klavier from panicking, to hide his condition and save him from the far too painful (in more ways than one) explanation of what took place in the courtrooms only days ago. they've both been through enough, haven't they? sure just keeping this from him won't do any harm.

then there's a voice in the back of his head, that sounds an awful lot like clay again, barking at him to stop being such a shit boyfriend. if he was hurt from klavier not being fully honest, klavier would be devastated that apollo kept something such at this from him.

it's hard to make eye contact, eyes flitting over to meet klavier's, only to turn away to somewhere else. it's not something that's going to go over well, that's for sure.

he takes a deep breath, before carefully sliding clay's jacket off and let it rest against the back of the couch. the need to keep it pristine and safe will always be there, no doubt. slowly, almost scared of how klavier will react, he begins unbuttoning his shirt, and once that slides off, anything but what klavier might have been hoping for is there.

bandages all up and down his arms, stopping just at the wrists, gauze patches covering the worst parts on his chest and back. the lower half of his stomach area is also fully wrapped in bandages, and really, it's a wonder this kid is moving.) ... I need to take my medicine and change my bandages.

(he's still unable to look klavier in the eye, partly due to the memories of his injuries, even minus the near death, the time of them is what makes him ache.

he rises off the couch to head to the bathroom, find his ointment, bandage supply, medicine from the hospital. things he's... probably been slacking on.)

[Klavier watches, taking in every small movement Apollo made. Watching as his eyes try to meet his, only flicking away once they make contact. Not too unlike Vongole when he felt guilty for chewing on his shoe, or when Apollo had a piece of evidence that didn't exactly prove anything substantial in court. It was weird how much of an open book Apollo was in those cases.

Sometimes he'd tease him for it. This was not one of those times. He sits up, when Apollo eases his weight off him, blue eyes practically glued to him as he watches. Clay's jacket is removed, and Klavier immediately takes it to fold it respectably to put to the side. Something to keep his hands and mind busy while he...wonders just what Apollo's up to. A few unbuttons of his shirt and those eyes shoot wide open, wondering if Apollo was going to--

Right now? Not that he'd refuse anything Apollo offered but...

That moment of surprise is replaced by something else. The small crumpling feeling of his heart as he sees bandages encasing his entire arms, his stomach just as bound. Confusion and fear completely overtake his face, and he looks to his boyfriend for answers.]

Apollo.

[His voice loses all it's music, replaced with a tone that's practically helpless, but still reaching for something.]

What happened to you? This isn't because of the case, is it? [Was someone targeting Apollo too? He'd heard of a courtroom attack, but that was --

Oh god.]

(he winces visibly, face scrunching up in pain as he tries not to cry again, reliving the pain and helplessness and... almost giving up in the face of everything being shoved at him. his best friend, everything he could've ever wanted in his life, ripped out of his life only to be followed by someone trying to get rid of apollo.

he'd be lying if he said he was fine. but he'll say it anyway. because he has to be, he just has to be fine again. can't exactly do that when moping about your own misfortune.

but the voice he hears klavier speak with, all joy and serenity of a spring breeze gone, he can only imagine how his face must look. not that he wants to find out. he curls in on himself as his fists grip his pants legs in reaction to just the memory. ones he'd definitely sooner forget.

he shakes his head, still staring down at the ground. he can feel klavier's gaze piercing him, probably not at all unlike how apollo stares down witnesses in court. his arms shift up to just barely cross over each other, hide what he can of his wounds.) N-No, not exactly. It happened during the trial. Ted Tonate blew up the courtroom to cover up a murder he committed. I was um... I was trying to get Ms. Woods out of there, and I got caught up in the falling debris.

(he considers to let it end there, drop the conversation and just change his bandages, take his medicine to lighten the pain and speed up the healing. but a thought flashes in his mind.

one he should probably warn klavier of. an arm raises, slowly and hesitantly as a finger points to the back of his head.) Um... be careful with the back of my head. The wound there is... really bad. Blunt force trauma, so I have to sit down and stop moving if I get dizzy or lightheaded or start seeing spots...

[He'd told Apollo he'd be fine, because Apollo Justice was always fine. But this...seeing the bandages wrapped around his arms and torso, seeing him broken down further than he'd already thought. No...No, Apollo Justice was not fine, and there's a deep feeling of something Klavier rarely ever expressed bubbling up inside him. Discontent? No, it was far beyond that.

This was anger.

He stands up, walking over to Apollo and hovering his hands over his shoulders. As if touching him would hurt in some way.] I'd heard about that...I didn't think it was y--[You. All he'd heard was a bombing in the courtroom. And his blood runs cold at the thought of Apollo possibly dying from it.

And he wouldn't have known until he read the paper the next morning.]

Herr Justice. Apollo--[His teeth bites down on that lip, blue eyes flashing a rare emotion in him--anger, frustration, pooling up as he turns away and muttering under his breath. Most of it are curses to himself, about how he should have looked into that more, about how Apollo could have been severely injured or even worse.

But then it slowly evolves into something, a garbled mix of English and German before fully becoming the latter, hands raising to his hair and threading through it, continuing a conversation with only himself. Fear and sadness get caught in his throat, trying his bet to keep ahold of himself as fingers drag down his face.

Apollo almost died.

Twice.

And he just told the man he was fine.]

Edited 2016-11-15 03:59 (UTC)

(he could spend hours searching for words, something simple and clear to calm klavier, ease his worry that was quickly spreading over his face. but nothing comes. there isn't any way to spin this aside from "i'm fine now", and even that's a stretch of the facts. he's not allowed to exert himself, else wounds may reopen. he had to reply on himself to tend to his wounds, take medicine, lather with ointment, change bandages.

and he didn't want to lie anymore. even with how guilty and strained he feels, biting his own lip hard enough to leave noticeable indents, hunching over just slightly in guilt and leaving himself unable to put klavier's fears to rest. sure, the trauma had passed, but the very really scars were still there.

it's what comes next that surprises him.

he wouldn't have seen klavier's face, not as he stared holes into the floor, unable to look his loved one in the eye. he didn't want to see any more pain, any more pity because of him. but soon, words he knows are mixed with sounds he's never heard, and he's sure he'd find them beautiful out of klavier's mouth at any other point in time. he finally looks up, almost unsure of what he'll find, and he always seems to look up at klavier at the worst times today.

his heart didn't even plummet. it disappeared right out of his chest, contorting in pain at the sight of klavier making such a distressed and... angry expression. he flashes back momentarily to the tantrum klavier threw during his concert a year ago, but this? this was nothing like that. this was anguish and rage like nothing apollo had ever even imagined seeing on klavier's face. it pains him far more than any wound, has him reaching out to try and calm the anger before him, but he stops. he stops and stares down at his own arms, his chest, stomach, everything. all of it bandaged, even his legs covered by his pants. then he begins to think.

why is klavier so angry? it's a simple question, with a simple answer, just how klavier preferred things. apollo was injured. apollo almost died twice, once by murder. and that's when the realization hits him, the numb feeling in his chest all but gone.

apollo almost died. he almost died twice in one day, without finding the truth behind clay's murder. he was this close to losing everything, even when he'd already lost so much. and that thought, that epiphany slams into him like a brick wall, and apollo simply crumbles. his tears return, sliding down his face silently, as shaky, scared arms slowly raise to grip himself in a protective hug. it might hurt whatever bruises are beneath the bandages, but it's nothing to the pain in his heart after coming out of denial from his week. eyes stare wide down at the floor, his voice unusually quiet, even without the scratchy soreness to lower his volume.) I was almost murdered.

[Words tumble out of Klavier's mouth until he runs out of breath, hand reaching out to the back end of the couch to support him as his other tears that drill curl apart, leaving nothing but a crimped wave of blonde hair in its wake. Apollo almost died twice--

No. He was almost killed twice. And Klavier would have never known until it was too late. He would have heard the news and his heart would've stopped beating in that moment, the last drumbeat of a rhythm in his heart coming to a full rest. It just couldn't handle the THOUGHT of Apollo not being here. He couldn't handle losing one more person in his life.

He'd often joked bitterly about being cursed, and that everyone around him was destined to fall either to crime or be a victim of it. This was no different. But this was one that mattered most of all.]

You were almost murdered, [He confirms in English, blue eyes cast up, spring replaced with cold, harsh winter. They trail from Apollo's wrists, tracking the way the bandages wrap around, wondering just what lie underneath those and if he should even imagine it. Wondering just how deep those wounds go both physically and psychologically. Afraid for a moment that if he let Apollo out of his sight for this one moment that he'd slip through his fingers like sand the tighter he held on.

But everything stops when he sees Apollo's face, eyes wide and boring holes into the floor in shock. It must've just sunk in that his life was only a fraction from death at that moment, and it puts a halt to his own anger in a second. Tears leave streaks down Apollo's face, a sight that Klavier wishes he could just magic away like one of Trucy's tricks. It didn't suit Apollo, to cry like that. He didn't deserve to have to be broken down like this.

Klavier's voice hitching ever so slightly, he reaches out, taking the man by the sides of his face. It was hard not to cry himself, looking at those tears fall across his thumbs as he tries to wipe them.

But he'll try.]

But you weren't.

And I've never been happier to hear you're alive.

(something about the way klavier says it, laced with anger and dripping with rage, there's just something about it that makes him flinch. like the absoluteness of it that hardens the current reality of his life even more. he wasn't just almost "killed." he was almost murdered. twice within twenty-four hours, far more than any human should ever be subject to.

it may be delayed, and maybe even one would question him reacting to it this late in the game, but to apollo, he hasn't even had time to react to his own tragedies. he absorbed himself far too much in the loss of clay, his anger and grief and general hate toward the world guiding him.

but here and now, in klavier's arms, he's given a chance he never even gave to himself. he's allowed to drop his "i'm fine" facade, crumple without hesitation and collapse against klavier. his own hands reach up to cover his boyfriend's, clinging to any semblance of normalcy, grasping desperately for that one little piece of his heart that hasn't been crushed under the heel of the world's evil. it's all he's got right now, his world has shrunk down to his apartment and everything in it the past week. klavier is everything he has right now, and he almost lost him to. whether for mistakenly kissing him at a wrong moment, or klavier flying into what would certainly have been a justified rage. apollo can't take anymore loss. not anything on this grand of a scale.

the touch is soft, warm, and welcoming, all things he could use in excess as it stands. he physically crumbles, leaning his head against klavier's chest as the one last standing, firm presence in his life.) I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Prosecutor Gavin.

(it's barely able to be heard through more pained cries, shaking and gripping those hands so willing to love him, and the comfort only seems to make him cry harder. help him get the emotions he's kept pent up for far too long and in much too an unhealthy way.) I'm not fine! I'm not fine at all!

[The longer the silence, the more it sinks in that for one brief moment, Apollo could've followed Clay's path. And that's a fear that still grips Klavier's heart as he scoops the man into his arms. That confession would have never come. He would have never known the man's feelings were it not for this. Life had never felt so fragile until he puts those pieces together.

Apollo's weight doesn't collapse beneath him. Klavier won't allow him to.

Strong arms keep him on his feet, wrapped snugly around his body with hands pressed to his back as he holds Apollo there, not letting the world crush him. Justice would stand as he always did, whether he was helping or if it was on his own. But the world wouldn't defeat him today, and Klavier would make sure of that. Apollo deserved that more than anything, to show to the bomber and his attempted murderer that he wasn't just surviving, but he was living. Clay would want that, he feels. He didn't know much about the man, but he knew enough from Apollo's opinion of him that he would want life to go on. He would want the sun to continue to shine.

His voice hushes softly in lullaby, hoping to calm the tears and hiccups of his boyfriend, hands stroking gently between his shoulderblades.] There's nothing to be sorry for, Apollo. You're not fine. You shouldn't be fine, after that.

[Eyes shut tight, tears streaming down his own face as he attempts to keep it together for Apollo's sake.]

But I'll be here until you are.

(he allows himself to curl in against klavier's embrace, trembling and terrified fists gripping the fabric as he cried his heart out into his lover's chest for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

his heart aches and caves in as the week flashes by in his mind. a body, a case, struggling with a trial, doubting his own coworker, courtroom walls collapsing in on him, trapping him under until he was able to be taken to the hospital, bandaged up like a mummy only to throw himself right back into his work and all too desperate to just find the truth for once only to have his efforts wasted by lying in a useless heap on the courtroom floor and all too near death once again. the memories don't stop flooding back, only solidifying how unbelievably reckless and stupid he'd been over the course of the week. it terrifies him to his very core, weak in klavier's arms, and all he can do now is leave his care and well being to klavier.

right now, he can't be fine. he can't force it anymore, even if he tries.) I-I just... it's so scary! I-I was almost murdered, and I didn't care! I couldn't care, n-not with all those murderers still running free! (it's hard, really, a true struggle and testament of his state to speak through gasping sobs and choked breaths as he lets his own waterfall of realizations flow out of him. he just can't stop speaking.)I just kept pushing myself, I had to at least save Ms. Woods, I just had to at least save one person! I didn't care what happened to me at all, I only thought about Clay! I ignored everything, even how close I was to dying, I didn't care at all, I even thought my own coworker killed him!

(his fists, with their death grip on klavier's clothes, shake him weakly, as if tremors are spreading through his entire body. violent, almost self-loathing tremors of delayed reactions to horrifying events.) I was just so angry and hurt! Wh-What's wrong with me, how could I do that!

[It's something Klavier doesn't have an answer for--not right away, at least. His brain mulls over everything that happened, the muggy fog in his brain from dealing with the narrow brush Apollo had with death starting to finally lift. Thoughts aren't as clear as he'd like, but they're much more coherent and cohesive the longer he thinks on them.

Apollo's words spill out in the meantime, all the pent up fear and delayed self-preservation bubbling to the surface. It's justified, too, because Apollo truly hadn't considered his own mortality during all of this, and the act that Klavier had to be the one to point it out to him, that his own rage (as short lived as it was) was what signaled for Apollo to even give his own life some thought...]

Because you survive, Justice. It's in your nature to survive. I don't just mean in life, either. You're...[A small, affectionate laugh.] You're very fortunate to be here, if I'm honest. But I think a lot of it has to do with your tenacity, the way you don't ever let life take you a direction you're not prepared to go on.

It wasn't your time to leave, but you possess an incredible amount of will to go on for others. Just like you show in the courtroom.

You survive. [He repeats, pulling the man closer and resting his chin on his head.] You survive so that Fraulein Woods could as well, and so that Clay could be remembered.

[His eyes close when he feels desperate hands shake him for answers. Unfortunately, all Klavier can even think of giving is comfort. Answers aren't his right to give.]

I'm so sorry, Apollo.

(he knows it's unfair of him, to demand so many answers from klavier about the cruel reality of the world. he already knows how the world is, he's known ever since he was nine years old, separated from his family and the only place he'd ever called home. the only constant in his life from that point on was clay.

and yet again, he's had family ripped away from him with no chance of ever reliving that happiness again. his live has always been a series of give and take. take him away from the family he loved dearly, give him a friend who means more than the world to him. take away his best friend he loved more than anyone, give him a boyfriend he's yearned for longer than he knows. it's irrational, illogical, but apollo already wonders how long he'll be able to have klavier in his life.

five years? maybe he'll be lucky enough to get ten. that seemed to more or less be his life limit with people. he wishes more than anything that klavier's words could be a source of comfort, relieve him of this overpowering grief he's become burdened with.

but all he's able to think of is how lonely surviving is. he's quiet, the only sound filling the room are his sobs as he tries to let klavier's words sink in, give him some peace of mind.

instead his voice is quiet, losing all fight and bite to it, more hollow than he should ever sound.) What good is surviving if I don't have anyone to live with? What... just what the hell is wrong with me? I've lost everyone.

(there's a sad, bitter laugh as that thought sets in. yeah. he's lost everyone.) Maybe I'm cursed. I'm not supposed to have anyone.

[Cursed.

Funny, for a time he thought that was him. Like everyone in his life was slipping right through his fingers like sand, and the tighter he held onto it, the more it seemed to pour out, leaving him alone to deal with the cruel world he'd been brought into.

It's not a side he brings up often. No one would see him as the prince he was if he didn't put on a show all the time. The judge had remarked how well he'd recovered after his brother's first sentence, a feeling of dread he hid behind a smile and rock music.

But when his music itself was pulled up from underneath him, Daryan had to go too. And it brought a panic in Klavier that the rest of his band would be the same. The band fell apart like a deck of cards, losing one more thing in his life he tried so desperately to find solace in.

He didn't like to admit it, for fear of putting even more pressure on Apollo's already heavy shoulders...but the defense lawyer was oddly enough one of the few pillars who'd withstood the test of time. It's a secret he keeps locked to his own heart, worried that if he ever uttered so much as a word that the curse would fall into effect.

But to hear Apollo having the same feeling...a feeling that everything good in their lives has an expiration date...

His hands move up and down the man's arms, being careful not to rub too vigorously and disturb wounds. He has to say something, and against his silly superstiious judgement, he breathes out.]

I thought that about myself once. Sometimes, I still do.

It's sad, thinking you'll never find anyone, ja? That no one stays forever...

[He smiles to himself, fiddling with a piece of his bangs idly.]

But there is one man who constantly proves again and again that he can't stay out of my life, and the best part of it is...I don't want him to.

Because he's what's helping me through my loss. And Herr Justice, I'm going to return the favour.

(apollo finds himself falling silent at the words, as the realization of the meaning behind them hits him.

klavier understands. he understands apollo's pain more than anyone in his world right now. the defeat and loss of having those you love ripped away so suddenly, whether by their own faults or the world's. he's lost just as much as apollo, yet even klavier had no one to turn to after the events of his own brother's and best friend's respective trials.

well. he didn't before. and somehow, even in the clouded storm of his mind so wrapped up in his own loss, he wants to help klavier, he wants to be there for him, offer the support he should have gotten months ago.

and maybe that's what got him so fucked up in the first place, he takes the concern he should have for his own well being, and focuses it on someone else. it shone through strongly when he pushed himself too far trying to defend ms. woods. maybe it's happening again. that desire of his to protect people, to be a source of comfort and support for those important to his life, it's both a strength and a weakness. he winds up taking it too far, ignoring himself in favor of someone he feels needs it more.

klavier's words confuse him, eventually causing his sobs to quiet as he rubbed at his eyes. his pain has by no means left him, but now, he wants to focus more on klavier's words.) Wh... what? Who is it?

(it doesn't click for him yet, that the person klavier is speaking of could be apollo.

because when has apollo ever been there for klavier the way klavier is here for him right now?)

[It's hard not to chuckle at Apollo's innocent question, and the soft puff of air that escapes in a soft 'pfft' is enough. There's nothing demeaning about it, more simple amusement and affection at the man as he tilts his head back down.

Was Apollo really so blind to all of that?

Fingers brush a stray lock out of his face as he gazes into those eyes, offering the most genuine, soothing, and caring smile he can muster. Because these next words are going to be the exact same. It's something Apollo needs to hear right now more than anything.]

It's you, Apollo. Ever since I met you in the courtroom, you've been there. You were there when my brother showed his true colours. When Daryan showed his, and when Kristoph turns his back on the law an became something much worse than a corrupted killer. A demon, the devil...it's not an easy thing to see or hear about someone you love.

But every time I was left in the dark, something as simple as your smile or as complicated as your irritated sighs brought me up to my feet. It kept me going, you might say.

[His voice trails off at that moment, humbling fiddling with his bangs in sheer nervousness.]

It's hard to say this easily but...

Thank you for taking the poison out of my life. I mean it.

(he freezes at the touch, one so foreign to him that not even clay would ever initiate. it's warm and soft, even letting his confusion at klavier's laughter dissipate immediately. the way he focuses solely on apollo certainly doesn't help, his face slowly heating up as he finds himself unable to tear away from eyes that seem to wish all the love in the world on him.

but the second the first words enter the air, waft through apollo's ears, he reacts. it's minute, small reactions, but after the days he's had, it's noticeable. a quick intake of surprised breath, hands gripping klavier's shirt a little tighter, a quiet plea that he's telling the truth.

his eyes are wide as klavier confesses just how important apollo is to his life, and he almost wants to protest. that it was in court, he had to do it, it was his job. but apollo knows the truth. he wanted to be there for klavier, inside and outside the courts. outside was far too inappropriate given their relationship. but inside?

inside he'd do whatever he could to help the prosecutor. the one man in the world, in his life, who didn't deserve for a single unfortunate thing to ever happen to him. but this? to hear as if apollo was his savior?

that's too much praise to put on him.) I... I don't--

(he has to cut himself short, give him time to rethink his words. he can't deny what he tried to do for klavier, how he wanted so desperately for klavier to not be alone, but also not be surrounded by so much evil and toxicity. someone who shone so brightly and so purely was far too good for half of the world. apollo still sadly counts himself in that half.

the words aren't coming out, not the way he wants to. if he denies what he did, it's the same as invalidating all klavier is doing for him now. so if he can't speak, he'll act. one hand raises up, cupping klavier's cheek as he treats the last important being in his life with such delicacy and reverence.

a hand that loops itself around to the back of klavier's head, curling into his locks as he gently pulls his face down. his eyes close as he places his lips over klavier's again, this time with no intention of pulling away.)

[They were beyond words at this point. He'd said what he'd always wanted to say to Apollo, and whether or not the man accepted it changed very little when it came to Klavier's opinion of him. He was the sun, through and through, no matter if he shone as bright as the view from Mercury or the dim light of a pale dot from Neptune's orbit. Apollo was everything to him by now, and he just hoped he could be even a fraction as important to him.

He shakes his head at Apollo's attempt to protest, although no more words come out. No matter what he says will be the same. It's a good thing they're silenced quickly, replaced by something so much better than mere words. Lips brush against his, and not the hesitant scoping out they'd done earlier. Not the helpless, desperate need for touch that had sent him back in a shove. This was a kiss meant for Klavier knowing Klavier wanted him back. And he was happy to oblige that as he wraps Apollo up in his arms, gently cradling him and minding those injuries as best he can. Calloused hands are surprisingly gentle and soft against Apollo's skin, heavy breathes shared between them as he drinks in all the man wants to give him. For the moment, however long it lasts, he's Apollo's, and nothing would change that.

Fingers massage his scalp and run through his hair, thoroughly mussed up from everything that'd happened, but Klavier's in no position to care. If he wanted anyone to play with it, to unwind that drill curl that'd become so iconic of the Gavins, he'd want it to be Apollo. Everything he was belonged to him, and had even before this moment. His savior, his sun...he'd always had him ever since they met, whether he knew it or not.

All that remained was to soak in the benefits. Envelope himself in the truth that he has a boyfriend now. A pale blue dot in the darkness that was his life.

His whole world was Apollo right now, and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Heated breath escapes as Klavier gulps for air, opening his mouth to allow entry should Apollo want it, his tongue gliding gently along the man's lips in an almost needy request.]

(he's been wounded, bruised, beaten both emotionally and physically, far more than any human should ever be susceptible to. but klavier's touch, the way his skin glides so delicately and carefully as if his hands alone were able to heal every physical infringement upon apollo's body. his heart pounds in his chest, every minor shift of his body, how their lips slide together so perfectly, the excitement causing apollo to grip klavier's hair just that bit tighter.

it's almost more than he's prepared for, his mind still swimming with conflict, is this the right time, should he really be letting himself go like this, is any part of this right. but then again, if it hadn't happened now, would it ever have? would apollo ever have learned how deeply he touched klavier's heart, how much they'd let their own lives swell to include the other as much as possible?

there's a flicker of a memory, clay telling apollo to get his act together or he'll regret it. sometimes missed chances are missed lives. and he knows for certain if he pulled away this time, he might not be able to go back to this. he allows himself to be pull in my klavier's mouth, drawn that bit closer to him.

open his up his heart fully.

the tongue shocks him, suddenly a hint of wet warmth he wasn't expecting. though, with how long they've both been waiting... it makes sense. he hesitates, giving himself a moment to consider just how far he wants to go. his mouth opens slowly to allow klavier's tongue, his breath, his life. every bit of it.

apollo will take all of it, one piece at a time.)

[Klavier had thought about waiting for this. Letting them both get settled and fed before he'd sink this deep into Apollo's love. But tender hearts are vulnerable, and if Apollo needed anything in his life right now, it was the warm security of someone out there loving him for who he is, every part and every inch of him that he'd give. He was tentative--he let Apollo decide if he wanted it or not. Every movement was with his permission, and that's how it'd stay until the man was confident to be on his own two feet again.

The kiss is deep, enough for Klavier himself to get lost in, their emotional states not enough to hold them up from sinking into the quicksand of bliss they'd gotten trapped in. Apollo was offering his heart, as broken as it was, for Klavier to fix. And he'd hold it, cradle it...cherish it.

Let Apollo know that there was always someone out there who thought the sun was beautiful above all else.

The taste is just like the moment--bittersweet, but leaves Klavier wanting more. Something to come back to later of course, when Apollo's bandages were changed, he had made himself comfortable, and they were allowed to have that time to themselves. Clay would be on both of their minds for awhile yet, and Klavier had a lot of mending to do to get him prepared for the funeral...

But he wanted Apollo to know above all else that someone was there for him.

The kiss only stops when air is necessary, drifting away from his lips softly and letting the warm air between them bounce off their cheeks. A soft pant escapes his lips and a smile spreads as he takes in Apollo's tear-streaked face, his own trying not to join in once more.]

Thank you, for everything, Apollo Justice.

Now let me help you with your injuries.

(if apollo could express it now in a way aside from pressing himself flush against klavier's lips, he'd only only proclaim how glad he was, how relieved and elated that klavier chose now to really soak in their love, embrace like this. he may be deprived of affection, of care, of love from those around him, but he knows more than anyone, he's wanted klavier's touch, his lips, his breath, ages before all of this. and he would never turn it down.

even if just for a short time, apollo allows himself to drift into the feeling. let his depression be kept at bay while he drinks in the klavier's taste and loses himself to the all too blissful feeling of being loved again. the way he kisses isn't nearly as hungry as klavier, just a little slower, a little more behind until klavier pulls away. apollo is out of breath, eyes eventually opening to stare up at klavier and wonder how it's possible for one person to be so awe-inspiring.

there's a brief nod at his suggestion, realizing his bandages probably shifted somewhere in the embrace. he's still a little slower, trying to catch up with the rest of the world.) Okay--

(and then he suddenly understands why he was so much slower. his face is flushed red from so much excitement, too much so to cause the wound on the back of his head to begin pounding in pain. his vision glares, sunspots blinding him and causing him to fall against klavier with a pained whine.

the hand on his head grips his hair tighter, eyes clenched shut as he waits for the pain to die down. he curls up against klavier, almost crumpling, his breath coming in pants and not from the kiss.) Need-- I need to sit down.

[He wasn't expecting it, and he probably should have. The moment the kiss breaks, he can see something is off about Apollo--he's not sure what, he's not able to see anything beyond the naked eye, but he could tell that there was something...and it isn't until he feels Apollo's body curl against his own that he can put everything together. Panic washes over him, and he's slow to move Apollo back down to the couch, arms securely (but gently) around him as they sink into the cushions.]

Alright, alright...it's okay. Let it pass.

[Soft, comforting coos and hushing, followed by soft lips against Apollo's head. With everything going on, and their whole lives practically topsy turvy in the span of a half hour, it's no wonder the man's starting to feel the strain on his own body.]

I'll be here.

(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.

Klavier Gavin [OPEN]

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