Klavier "Notice Me Apollo" Gavin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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halloforigin2016-10-10 05:41 pm
achtung) wrote in halloforigin2016-10-10 05:41 pm
Klavier Gavin [OPEN]
Klavier Gavin a catch-all rp post ⤷ leave an idea/plot you want in the subject line. ⤷ you can leave your comment blank or create your own scenario. ⤷ have fun! code found here |
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he bites his lip, shoving that thought down, far far deeper down than he normally does, forcing himself to think of validations for it. he turned away the comfort the agency offered him, but welcomed it from klavier. he almost craved for it, crumbling into his arms with little resistance for what his friend offered him. he clings to that thought, repeating it over and over again to center himself, wash the guilt away, chant to himself he's just overthinking it due to the stress and grief. it's klavier. it's klavier. it's klavier.
the warm rag helps to soothe him as he ruminates over klavier's words, letting his touch bring him a small bit of peace to his life, eyes fluttering closed as klavier brings a bit of life back into apollo. he thinks back to when he first lost his job, it was more than a year ago now. watching his boss be escorted away by the police, his office being searched and packed up. what he remembers most is clay being there constantly, never giving apollo moments to wallow in self pity or the woe is me act.
he would want to see apollo back in court. it's what he helped him with those two months rumors began floating around. clay was part of the reason they never bothered him, he was always there ready to fight anyone who said even one wrong word about apollo. it's what he was. a constant.
having klavier here, kind and gentle and trying to be even half of what clay was... apollo would never deny it brought him peace. eyes open slowly to greet warm blue eyes like the sky, never diverting their attention from the person before them.) You both want me to be able to stand again.
(his lips part, only a crack, a moment of weakness taking hold and controlling him. it's an automatic movement, one that just feels right as apollo leans over, dried lips greeting klavier's soft ones. heat flows through his chest as his heart tightens in excitement. it's only a moment, but that moment offers him enough clarity to know one thing.
it truly was klavier that apollo wanted here with him right now.)
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There were a lot of things Klavier had no control over. He couldn't bring back Clay, or prove Daryan and Kristoph innocent. No matter how much he wished they were. No matter how much he wished he could bring back the light into Apollo's life.
This was something for Klavier, too. Because for once he felt like he could fix this. Maybe not completely. Maybe all he could do was hold the pieces and try and piece together something resembling his riva-...no, his friend. But it was something he felt he could do and not be powerless to the situation. Selfish, maybe, but then again, what decision in life isn't?]
Ja, baby.
[A small smile curls on his lips at Apollo's response, his answer all put flowing out of him so naturally. But in that time that he takes to blink to reflect that answer, Apollo's already leaned forward, cracked and split lips pressing against his own. Blue eyes widen a moment, that rag falling limp on his fingers as they curl inward, feeling the soft spark that their kiss gave. The shock was brief before he follows suit, head tilting ever so slightly back into that kiss. Lips massage against his own, and he moves to position them slightly better.
Selfish? Maybe. But...
Maybe he could fix this, just a little bit.]
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what are you doing?
the question blares in his mind out of nowhere, and he swears the voice almost sounded like clay. he freezes, tensing up in the kiss again and he's suddenly not kissing back or pulling away as the thought repeats in his mind. what was he doing?
the immediate answer is kissing klavier gavin and feeling better than he has all week. the events of the week flood back to him, and if he could, he'd kick himself for even thinking of doing this in the first place. but then again, maybe the problem was that he didn't think at all.
he immediately shoves himself away from klavier, a light pink flush to his cheeks that greatly contrasts the look of shock and shame on his face because how dare he do this. how dare he take advantage of klavier's kindness and well meaning behavior to do something like that to him? only days after his best friend passed away, no less. a hand covers his mouth, both wanting to remember exactly how klavier's lips felt against his, soaking in the last remnants of his taste while trying to hide his error in judgment, make it all go away.) I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-- That was wrong, I'm sorry.
(the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong meaning, all of it. but nothing felt wrong about it until guilt crept into his heart, as he chastised himself for thinking for even a moment that klavier might be a replacement for clay. he didn't want that, not at all, but he also didn't want klavier to stop calling him baby, he wants to know what else that mouth can say about him.)
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It strikes like a sharp chord in his ears, and he visibly flinches when he sees Apollo's face, looking not unlike a dog who knows he's done something wrong.
That was wrong, I'm sorry.
Apollo's words bring him back down to Earth, and the flashy, cool persona ebbs away from Klavier's face, reduced to nothing but shock and horror at his own behavior. Apollo was mourning the loss of his friend, a friend who had no equal, rightfully so. And here he was pressing his lips back when he should've been more of a pillar. A rock to support him in his vulnerable state.
The harsh reality sets in. Maybe I am as selfish and manipulating as Kristoph.
His bangs fall in front of his eyes as he tries to smile--tries to apologize.]
Nein. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you in this state, and that fault rests on me.
[ What does he even say after that? He'd just exploited Apollo at his weakest...
It doesn't stop him from savouring that last bit of the tingling feeling on his lips where Apollo had caught him, biting the lower one ever so slightly as he folds up that rag, setting it gently down on the coffee table. Trying not to remember every bit of those few moments Apollo had given him. The rough texture on Klavier's lips was tantalizing and sweet, a forbidden fruit he'd only gotten a taste of before it was yanked away. Was that kiss really meant for him?]
Should I make like the breeze? [That is, it's a free out for Apollo if he wanted some time to himself. He can't say it makes the situation any more awkward than it is now...and if Apollo truly hated him, after this, at least he'd helped as much as he could.]
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he doesn't deserve an ounce of the kindness and care klavier has shown him ever since setting foot in his apartment. hell, he doesn't even deserve to look at the man who's generosity he took advantage of so selfishly. so easily. how could he do that?
the thought blasts through his mind like klavier's own brand of rock music as his other hand slides shakily through his hair, gripping it in anger and bitterness and resentment, all aimed towards himself. ruining all the work klavier spent his time on, his good wishes, his love.
there's a sad, pathetic laugh on his end, hollow and with no trace of an ounce of joy. what was klavier doing? trying to shift the blame?) Your only fault is being kind to me. I'm the one who took advantage of that.
(how could klavier possibly thing he was at fault in any way? he took him out of his own life to help his rival in the courtroom, hold together was little pieces of him remain. this was his friend, however much they needed to expand on that.
not like he'll ever get the chance now. he accepted that kiss from klavier, knowing full well it was nothing more than pity, than klavier being his usual angelically kind self. he knows this much about klavier to be true, that the man before him will do whatever he can to ease the pain and sufferings of those close to him.
a heartwarming gesture apollo is no longer worthy of.) I don't... want you to go. But I've been selfish enough. If you want to cut ties here, I get it.
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Apollo's own fingers thread through his hair, mussing up what was just combed out and styled. He can't blame him, though. Things had gotten infinitely complicated fast, and Klavier held the reins of allowing it to continue. Taking advantage of a man who had nothing and probably did this out of some need for companionship...
His eyes soften at Apollo's words, reaching up to salvage whatever's left of that hair by taking his wrist.]
Herr Forehead.
[There's no hint of anger or even being upset in his voice. It's as fluid as a river, gentle as a spring breeze as it escapes his lips, melodic and comforting. There was no way he'd leave Apollo if he was wanted. And that's just what the defense lawyer had told him. He wanted him here.]
I want to stay here, too.
["If you'll have me."]
We're friends, after all.
[More than friends on Klavier's part, if that kiss proved anything to him. Feelings had unearthed themselves in Klavier's heart, taking root there and now as clear as day in his mind. That kiss sparked something, for sure. But a part of him feels like it was meant for someone else. Someone he wishes was here right now.
Someone that deserved Apollo's love.]
Now, you're going to get tears on your face again...
[He smiles, ready to clean his face off again. He'd do it as many times as he had to.]
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if he hadn't looked up, he wouldn't have seen klavier lying. right to his face, even at a moment like this. it's like someone just kicked him in the chest, right over his heart and completely shattered it. why did he want to stay he if he didn't find apollo a friend? to mock him? out of some weird sense of obligation now that he's here? whatever the reason, apollo stares in silence, silently hoping and praying that it was a mistake, that klavier didn't lie. but it's the truth. just like one he's faced down in the courtroom countless times.
his laughter starts out slow and quiet, as if he remembered an amusing joke. it grows louder as more tears fall, hoping the laughter will make this less agonizing than it actually is. that he'll be able to brush these off as tears of laughter and not from the crushing reality of him losing everyone around him.) Prosecutor Gavin, don't lie. You don't have to lie to me.
(he's always seen lies. it's helped him more times than he can count, but now? now it's been doing nothing just casting doubt on his friends, on his loved ones. he never asked for an ability like this, for a power to almost see into people's hearts. why was he burdened with always being forced to face the truth? why couldn't he remain blissfully unaware like everyone else?
why couldn't he just ignore it? go along with the lie and pretend everything was fine?) I just keep fucking things up, don't I. First the agency, now you. You don't need to pity me, Prosecutor Gavin, if you're just going to lie, I'd rather not force you to be around me.
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He's laughing. A dark, depressing, laugh accompanied by tears streaming down his face, retreading just where that rag had wiped them away. He's confused, and it shows in the way his body practically crumples. Was there something funny about what he said? Was it just a joke to him?
Did...Apollo really think that just because he was the prosecution, or a "glimmerous fop" that he couldn't see him as a friend? His fears are all but confirmed in two words:
"Don't lie"
Pain grips his heart, icing his blood right in his veins as he steadies his breathing. Calm and collective must run in the Gavin family, because he's able to keep his cool rather well in the face of this. Not that he doesn't want to scream or throw a fit...and his face certainly shows the shock and horror that Kristoph would often hide behind a stonewalled face. Brows furrow, and his bangs fall over his eyes.
Apollo still couldn't trust him.
Tears want to well up in his own eyes, but they're fiercely bat back. Years of being on stage, years of pulling two jobs and barely sleeping and tours and cases you often question your own judgement on make you able to hold your tears until you're alone.
But this was by far the hardest.]
I'm here on my own accord, Apollo Justice.
Do you really think I'm lying about that?
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how wrong he was proven this time.
it appears a normal gesture, a hand over an eye, one many people make in an effort to wipe away tears or cover their eyes while sobbing their hearts out. apollo's was different. he was hiding himself. shutting away any possible contact from even a glimpse of the truth staring him in the face, the only shield he can throw up aside from ripping his bracelet off his wrist. the start of the problem. this damn bracelet he hasn't got a clue about only does damage in the most important of times from him, clenching around him, and though it may not have been that strong, it felt like his blood flow had been cut off as klavier spoke.
we're friends, after all.
he never thought klavier the type to lie right to someone's face that way, especially not since he seemed so... genuine. so sincere about wanting to raise apollo up. he choked out more laughter, bitter and hollow, really closer to a scoff at klavier's words. he couldn't see the truth with his hand covering an eye. he preferred it that way.) I don't know.
(but he has to hesitate, to take a moment for a thought to bloom in his mind. was he lying? all he had to do was remove his hand, ask again, and he'd have the truth. won't the truth be just the same as last time? his heart panics for a moment, stressing if this is really the course apollo prefers, hiding from the truth like this. he's never acted this way in court, why is he being so pathetic now?
his laughter dies away, overcome with sobs and hiccups as he hunches in on himself even more, sinking further into his protective bubble. the bitterness is gone, replaced only with fear and almost panic like hesitance. what did he think about klavier?) ... I don't know if I want to know.
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[It's quiet, a different sort of tone than one Klavier usually takes. It's not the confidence, playful tone he often gave people, a melody on his lips, but a sadder, more resigned sound.]
But now's not the time or place for that, ja? [His head tilts back, as if that would somehow drain the sinking feeling out of his body. As if that would stop the sting of tears daring to form around his eyes.
...
Apollo's laugh hurts more than he ever wants to admit. It's eerily reminiscent of someone else. Someone he too had idolized with all his heart only to have nothing but disappointment thrown right back to him. Not even Apollo took him seriously, it seemed, to the point of slapping his hand away the moment he tries to reach out for someone. The fact that it was Apollo, the fact that it was the one person he'd ever really felt something for...
It withers away what true confidence he had underneath that persona.
Fingers run through his bangs as he pushes himself up from the couch, wandering lifelessly over to the small kitchen Apollo called his own. If it was anything like his kitchen...there should be some fliers for takeout menus somewhere around her. It's an idle browse, trying to focus on that more than anything. The mixed signals Apollo was giving him rattled his brain. He'd clearly been kissed, and yet shoved away when he kissed back. Then called a liar for calling him a friend? For the life of him, he can't understand it. What did Apollo want from him?
Nothing, from the looks of it.
He spots a spare pizza flier, snatching it up in his fingers before making his way back to the couch and sitting down next to him. It's awkward as hell, and there's a hard swallow as he tries his hardest to be the strong one here. Apollo needed that, even in the face of being called a liar.
What exactly he was lying about...he wished he knew.]
I don't have many, you know.
[Friends, that is. And it's hard to hide that voice from hitching up ever so slightly. But much like his brother, he steadies it. He moves on. Masking his true pain behind a smile, however sad it was.
He wore his heart on his sleeve compared to Kristoph, sometimes.]
My social life leaves a bit to be desired after recent events.
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and yet, klavier stayed here, in his presence, almost refusing to leave. was it just a sense of obligation, or something more akin to guilt? no one would really be okay with leaving another person in a state as terrible as apollo's.
and yet he still aches as klavier leaves the room, an emotional rain cloud following him wherever he walks, one apollo swears he could see. is this the effect he has on people? he just... brings the mood down of everyone who comes in contact with him? he scrubs at his face with his sleeve, not the one of clay's jacket. he'll keep that one as pristine as he can. his tears still fall, most of his face cleaned off by now, left red and dry from his vigorous attempt to at least make one part of his life seem fine. however much of a facade it will be.
klavier taking place beside him again startles him, words he hopes-- no, words he has to believe are honest. he's not the type to have his heart laid bare before another so easily. even after all these months, apollo still doesn't know as much as he should about his rival. they share the suffering that came with being related to kristoph, the pain of having someone important ripped away from them. he listens in silence, gaze falling anywhere but on klavier, too scared of seeing another lie. it makes him despise himself, how much he'll hunt for the truth in court, but here, now, where it really matters to him, he looks away. hell, he pushes it away.
it's slow, but his hand lowers from his eye, gaze only barely turning toward him before immediately glancing away. the motion is repeated, still scared to face this. but if he's scared of what klavier will say truthfully, or if that truth will cause klavier to leave forever, he doesn't know.
he speaks hoarsely, making every effort not to let his voice crack, not appear too weak, letting a hand grip clay's jacket for an extra needed bit of support.) ... mine is gone.
(yes, he still had the agency. but the agency isn't clay. a force there for the worst and best, the constant support, a presence there for the largest part of his life, a love he'll never be able to replace, no matter how long people stay in his life.) ... but you lied. You want friends, but you lied about us being friends.
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And even the strongest walls crumble if enough damage is dealt.
He crumples at Apollo's words. The finality of what he said all to apparent as his teeth bite his own bottom lip. As if that would stave off any tears. His eyes, glassier than they'd ever been seen even when Kristoph mocked and demeaned him in court, viciously fight back tears as he's called the one thing he never wanted Apollo Justice to call him.
Unfortunately, his eyes can't hold back anymore. Tears pool at the corners of his eyes, a soft nod as his hands run through his bangs. It was true. In this scenario, Apollo had the far worse situation. Clay, a true friend of his was gone from this world. Daryan, who'd been a distrusting friend at best, sat in a jail cell to curse his name another day. Apollo's true support group had been torn from this world. And Klavier couldn't help but feel like an idiot for thinking he was any part of that.]
Are you doing this on purpose, Apollo?
[It was a lot harder to cry than he remembered. Scraped knees and bad grades often brought him to tears as a child, and crying had seemed so easy then. But even now, his tears run down his cheeks in little rivers instead of water falls, his senses clogging up and his face feeling warmer than it had ever on stage or in the courtroom. His tongue stings, his eyes more so. His mouth feels like sandpaper and his head suddenly feels twice as heavy as it did before. An elbow props up on his knee, cradling his forehead in his fingers as his body shivers, soft hiccups in his throat as he tries to collect his breathing.]
I didn't lie. I just...
[This part kills him. This was not how he ever wanted to bare his feelings to someone, in a pile of tears and cold sweat when they're both at their weakest point. Apollo's feelings had been all too clear to him the moment he was shoved away. Desperation gave way to a mistake, and reconciling it into a friendship was Klavier's only option.
The words don't come out, not right away. His sobs eventually choke him enough to get a few out. His hand reaches for that rag to wipe them away, makeup staining it as he looks at it in soft apology. He'd have to buy a new one.]
I just didn't imagine my confession to you to be like this. [A defeated, breathless laugh escapes, as if he had nothing left to lose for this and Apollo stood with his heart in his hand, ready to crush it at a moment's notice.
He'd already lost his friend.
He'd already lost his brother.
What's one more. Maybe Klavier Gavin wasn't meant to be anything more than a glimmerous fop.]
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(it was only a one word question in response, but he finally looks up to see a sight he never thought was even possible. someone as bright and full of life as klavier gavin shouldn't be crying as though his whole world was just ripped away. and apollo is scared again. he's scared because is he really the one who did this? is he really the one who lashed at klavier enough to make him hurt like this? was trying to find the truth a mistake this time? he's shaking in distress, searching klavier as if that will bring a solution to light. he tries to reach a hand out, offer a bit of comfort, maybe just sweep the whole thing away and pretend it never happened--
apollo swears his heart stopped beating in his chest, or maybe sped up so much, it appeared to flat line. the word replays in his mind like a broken record he doesn't want to fix.
confession.
it was an option apollo never even thought to consider. there was always the route of klavier lying because he just didn't want to befriend apollo. but the opposite on the spectrum was also true. he didn't want to be friends, he wanted to be lovers.
oh god.
apollo doesn't need to rely on his bracelet for this, there's no way klavier would ever lie while this emotionally vulnerable, not when he's this raw and exposed to apollo. he'd never lie while crying in front of him. klavier gavin is in love with him, apollo justice. his breath becomes shaky and quick as if he'd been running too long or forcing himself for too long. and maybe he had been. he'd shoved up walls and barriers around his heart and done nothing to let klavier in after a moment of weak doubt. once the words sink in, along with their meaning behind them, something in apollo snaps.
he goes limp, and after a few moments more of shock, tears stream out like rain and he is wailing. the tears flow endlessly, and apollo sobs his heart out in a way he hasn't done since he was a little boy. but even somehow, there's relief in his heart with this knowledge, the bare facts that klavier cares. his cries strain his throat and burn, but he can't find a way to stop himself from this.) You're an idiot! Not saying the whole truth is still lying!
(he's dealt with too many emotions in one day, too many exhausting and strenuous things that are becoming too much for his small frame to hold in anymore. they spill over in words and tears and cries, hoping to lighten his burden in some way so he'll be able to handle this the way he should. klavier placed his heart in apollo's hands, but he's too weak to accept. he can't accept it now, not this way.) Why do you think I kissed you? I love you, Prosecutor Gavin!
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And if Apollo was accusing him of this, it's hard to have that unwavering confidence that you once so easily threw about. It takes a backseat to your insecurities.
His eyes close letting the tears stream down his cheeks as he tries to somewhat collect himself. Scramble to get a hold on his emotions in some way. This wasn't how he wanted his confession to go. He'd imagined something a lot more planned out and better timed--not only four days after Clay's case had been solved. But it can't be helped, not with this situation...
"You're an idiot!"
Something about that...maybe it's the way Apollo says it, with a wail and desperation that matched his own, but he can't help but smile at it. Because...really, it wasn't all that incorrect. A laugh escapes, although it comes out more as a cough with a gasp for air as he lets his words sink in. Fingers drape across his face, scrubbing the tears once more as he processes all of this, sad smile on his face and his eyes looking anywhere but into Apollo's.
Light teases he could handle.
But it's what comes next that his eyes spring open. Of course, he wasn't a complete idiot. He knew that Apollo was the one that had kissed him, and that he had kissed back. But he'd thought Apollo was just desperate for any sort of attention, in need of someone to love him when Clay could not. Something Klavier had selfishly indulged himself on and regretted it a second later.
But this...?
Fingers clench his own hair, untangling that drill curl that had become so iconic for him over the past few years. His eyes fixate on the man, completely alert. You have his full and undivided attention, Apollo, and he's hanging on your every word.]
You love me?
[The feeling was mutual, of course.]
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and it felt like his world was crumbling around him. his world lost a little more light each day, his friend, his agency, his work, and for a time, he was terrified of losing the person he loved so deeply. it shook him more than he knew, rattled him right down to his core and to the most vulnerable corner of his heart.
klavier's unintentional lie was the breaking point. he should be relieved the truth came to light, even more so in his favor, but all apollo had the energy to do was continue to sob and wail, spilling out tearful waterfalls the way klavier just couldn't quite do. he nodded, over and over, unable to form any words through desperate cries and choked out coughs, offering klavier the only confirmation for his question that he could muster. anything more hurt far too much.
his hand reaches out blindly to grab the cuff of klavier's sleeve, weakly hold on and give himself a small notion of validation that klavier was still here. he wasn't alone, klavier is here and he confessed and he doesn't hate him. apollo isn't sure how he would have made it through if the opposite had proven true, if his worst fears were confirmed.
he should be happy, thrilled even, to finally have the man he's pined for here and loving him unconditionally. have a little light of joy back in his life. but one thought repeats over and over.
clay isn't here for it. clay isn't here to tease or laugh or congratulate, apollo waited far too long to have the most important people in his life meet. that though crushed him, seeming like the world would only let him have one or the other, but never both together. it's part of the reason he sobbed so hard and achingly. his circle grew and shrunk all in one week.)
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He truly was stupider than he ever cared to admit. His thumb reaches back towards the cuff of his sleeve, gently brushing over the hand that had secured itself there, letting Apollo know that in this dark abyss he'd found himself lost in ever since Clay light had been put out, there was still one more candle he could flock to. And he'd keep that burning no matter how much the world wanted to put that out as well.]
Apollo.
[That name rolled off so easily on his tongue. How long had he daydreamed about being able to say that out loud so freely? Sure, he could call him by his first name at any time, but with their profession, and Klavier's own knack for teasing...it was best to save moments like this for now. When he can say them with the utmost feeling and love.]
I love you, too.
[Sure, he'd just said it, in not-so-metaphorical terms. He was the male mantis. HE was the one Klavier could turn to. Finghers clench tighter around the hand tethering him to the case, and need to tell Apollo exactly what he was thinking for feeling taking priority over everything else.]
Mein Lieb... Come here.
[Arms extend out to pull Apollo closer, pressing at the back of that coat to pull him in once more to he hell he'd found himself in. If there was one thing Apollo needed right now, it was someone to hold him. To tell him things would be alright. To tell him that even in the darkest times, he can still shine. Klavier's thumbs reach up to drag along Apollo's cheek letting his fingertips wipe them away. ]
Shh...shh, shh, shh....
Listen to me, Apollo Justice. Listen.
[His hands reach up to guide, the tips of his fingers cradling the boy in his hands, desperately trying to get those brown eyes to fixate on him. He doesn't care how long it is--ad he certainly isn't going to explain something like this to an employee. But...]
Y-You...You are Apollo Jutice. And you are going to be fine. [Said through his own sniffles, the both of them looking anything but graceful turned towards each other on the cough, hands gripping sleeves. It's quick, but he adds in that one final tagline.]
I'll make sure of it. We'll make sure of it together, ja?
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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.)
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[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?
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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.
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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.]
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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.)
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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.]
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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...
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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.]
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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.
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