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'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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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.
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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!
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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.
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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!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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