[ I need you to be okay, he says, in a voice like he's confessing something. Simple words that carry so much more than their bare meaning, packed in with feeling and emotion and weight that settles on Flynn like a blanket. He pushes his nose against Yuri's ear, pressing himself close like that will fix everything, brimming with things too big to put into words: that he isn't okay unless Yuri is here, that he hasn't been okay even though he should have been, that Yuri is his weak spot and that he needs that because the alternative is that Flynn is a distant untouchable thing in danger of losing his own humanity like Alexei did. Yuri is his anchor to what matters, his reminder of the world the way it should be. Yuri is the star by which he orients himself in the darkness. ]
I wasn't.
[ A terrifying admission, tiny-voiced, barely given breath, but Flynn needs Yuri to know that with a desperation that scares him. That he's weaker than Yuri thinks he is, that he isn't okay with Yuri gone. His voice is shaky. Flynn tries to swallow around it and fails. ]
At least when you were missing at home, I— I didn't know, but I knew what was probably happening, and—
[ He squeezes Yuri tighter still, one leg hitched over his, tangling them together, and then makes himself let go only to start murmuring again the familiar incantation of First Aid. ]
no subject
I wasn't.
[ A terrifying admission, tiny-voiced, barely given breath, but Flynn needs Yuri to know that with a desperation that scares him. That he's weaker than Yuri thinks he is, that he isn't okay with Yuri gone. His voice is shaky. Flynn tries to swallow around it and fails. ]
At least when you were missing at home, I— I didn't know, but I knew what was probably happening, and—
[ He squeezes Yuri tighter still, one leg hitched over his, tangling them together, and then makes himself let go only to start murmuring again the familiar incantation of First Aid. ]