heartstrings

Today is the last day of our little get away to the country side and I don’t know if I want to see the whole thing be done and over with or if I want time to stop right here and now so that I can cherish these very moments forever. I bet he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. It’s just the way he’s developing his affectionate side and it’s so sweet but so painful in its own way.

Once he realizes that he can feel affection for others, maybe even the non-demon kind (by that I mean humans), he’ll more than likely seek others, I’ll still be the friend he invited into his life because he was familiar but I’ll just be that friend he can turn to in times of needs. He’s tugging at the strings that are so securely wrapped around my heart with the simplest of things that I’m afraid of what might become of me when that time comes.

It’s in the simple things. We went on another walk today, since the weather permitted, it was raining yesterday. We went along the path, waited by the horse that he still is so fascinated with and it came to us so he reached out, could pet the big guy’s face and we continued on. About three-quarter of the way through the path, while we knew it would take us back to the bed and breakfast, we decided on turning around. We were just enjoying being outside.

He was so tired by the time we came back, even more than I have been, that when he flopped on my bed, he dozed off ever so peacefully. So there he was, in my bed, half-sprawled but half-resting over me. What was I supposed to do? I stayed still, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, he’d wandered back to his room and I didn’t fault him for it. After all, we’re just friends.

We had dinner, chatted a little with the owner and went to bed. Well somewhat. We stargazed out of my window for a while and when he started nodding off, I nudged him somewhat and he wandered off to his room. I didn’t really want him heading off, I would have loved for him to sleep next to me again but the spot against the window wasn’t all that comfortable.

Morning was about before I wanted it to be, things were packed up and we were on the train before too long. The ride back was in companionable silence and we sat shoulder to shoulder. The warmth was comforting, welcome but still, those strings I could feel them tighten ever so slightly with every passing moment.

We’re back home now. The construction next door is done and I’m not sure just what it is they did because I can’t see much of a difference in the building. Though I guess most of what they did was done from the inside so I wouldn’t be able to really see a difference.

So now I guess we go back to our regular routines. I’m not sure how that is supposed to work out for me. Of course we have to work our way back into the regular sleeping schedule too. That whole sleeping the day away and being awake during the night. I might go back halfway, I think being awake around early afternoon is a good thing for me. I still get to see plenty of the sun and its play on everything that surrounds us and I get to see the same with the moon.

Quentin, I know, is just more comfortable with his night life and I don’t blame him for it. I do understand it well enough, or so a point in any case. Maybe it’ll be easier that way. We’ll see one another a few hours every day, less than spending whole nights together, getting my poor string-bound heart bound even tighter. I swear he’s too innocent for my sanity. Or my heart.

It’s still daylight currently, we’ve only been home for a couple of hours and seeing as we’d both slept the night away just hours before, it’s hard to want to sleep, so I’m just sitting here, on the couch, pondering the hows of things. How I’m supposed to not be falling for him as he discovers the better side of life, how I’m supposed to not notice those little quirks. The way he pushes his hair from his face, the way I swear I can see a tail sway behind him at times, how he sighs when something bothers him, how-

…he’s on my lap. This doesn’t really compute and he’s just looking at me with those wide golden eyes, full of amusement and all I can do is lift a curious brow at him. “Pray tell, was there no room anywhere else in the apartment or am I that comfortable?”

“Well, you’re that comfortable, for one.” Be still, my heart, that is just absolutely cruel. “But you were also staring off and starting to pull threads out of this pillow and it so happens to be one of my favourites and I was wondering as to why you were.”

Oh. Well then.

“Was not staring off, was just.. well.. thinking.” Same damned thing, I’m aware, but give me a break, this guy is gorgeous, he’s sweet and kind (to me at least!) and he’s half on my lap, just looking up at me with those eyes that I swear I could probably compare to molten gold on his good days and it would fit.

“Did you enjoy the trip out?” The surroundings are quiet, no more hammering or clanging, no shouting or just all about noise. It’s one of those things I do appreciate about this building. It’s a bit away from the city center but not so far as to be an issue with getting about, but it’s just far enough that we have quietness most of the time. Now in some years’ time, when they’ll see about developing more of this place, it might get noisier but maybe we’ll have moved out by then. I expect at least a couple decades of peace and then some.

He shifts and settles and I feel that little string tighten just a little more, his eyes are bright and so is his smile, he laughs. “It was fun, quiet and peaceful. I liked that horse, it was nice too. Stargazing and all and the meals and just spending peaceful time away from everything else. Even if my body aches a bit from all the walking we’ve done.”

So he had had a good time. That was the good point of this all, probably the only real point about having gone out into the country (construction folks aside). Anything to make him smile, in the end, even if he doesn’t realize I’m doing most of it all for him. That’s fine by me. I just need to see about making sure these little strings don’t strangle my heart.

I’m not saying it’s fragile, I don’t think it is, I’ve never really let myself love before, I couldn’t afford to. So I guess it’s a waiting game. I can wait, I’ve had to before. So that’s all fine and dandy. I just want him happy.

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