Fics like he is half of my soul, as the poets say

“Ash.” Eiji asks softly, rising to his feet. “Are you alright?” Ash stays silent for one long, terrible moment. When he finally does reply, his voice shakes. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now.” He pulls his hands from his face to wrap his arms around himself, refusing to look his friend in the eye. “But I still feel so fucking filthy.” It takes a moment for the words to register, and when they do they land like a heavy stone in Eiji's stomach. His heart throbs, throat burns. He had his suspicions, what happened with Foxx before Ash escaped, but having them confirmed just makes him want to hurl and scream and wrap his hands around that bastard's throat all the more. He takes a step towards Aslan, reaching out tentatively to lay a hand on his bicep. “It’s not your fault.” “Everyone always says that.” Ash swallows, and tears shine in his eyes. He’s still refusing to meet his gaze. “But it doesn’t change anything.” - It's terrifying, owning such a precious thing as Ash’s trust and vulnerability. But loving Ash isn’t. Holding him isn’t. It’s as second nature as breathing for Eiji, has been since the moment they met, and that makes it all just a little bit easier.

Fics like he is half of my soul, as the poets say

You may also like