[ There's something binding them together in this space, something that's not the fragments of their convergence, murmuring in the dark. Subaru's senses flood with the clamor of everything racing to claim them — the nauseating outcry of One, Sleep's droning purr, her hounds, the sudden, incriminating hush of their hunting. And closer still, the radiant chill of Agent Choi's mouth at the pounding column of his neck. A shiver ripples his skin, attention immediately drawn to him and his touch.
Some other bond is overlaying the one they have, casting this new light around. But the longer it lingers, the more Subaru understands that it's a beacon. Whatever calm it's giving him, whatever instincts it's sating in Choi, it's coming at a cost. The metal around them rattles and warms as something breathes outside the door, an eerie humidity flowing through the seams.
Silently, his fingers flex back from the door, away from the spell and where Choi holds it shut. His other hand tightens into his shirt as a warning. In that shift, his intent unfurls:
He's going to retract the spell. He's going to try and sever this link in favor of their tether.
Then it'll just be Choi's strength and their own silence standing between them and whatever's outside. ]
[ it's a stark contrast against the uproar that subaru experiences in this small, shared space of theirs. sleep's words that carry through the murmur, and an awareness of one unaccompanied by sensation—they overlay an uneasy sense of calm over choi, as if experiencing the tense world around him through dulled senses, even when his nose and teeth are as sharp as ever.
for him, it's the tensing of fabric—subaru's hand curling into his shirt that calls him back from this awareness and into the present moment. his mouth is filled with the sweet scent of tea, accompanied by paper and ink, and his lips curve into a smile in their brief distance from his skin.
Go ahead, he thinks, and his grip on the handle doesn't shift in the least. if this is the decision that subaru has made, agent choi can trust in that, and he can trust in himself too, he thinks. at least enough to protect the other man should push come to shove; if they're lucky enough, maybe those creatures outside will move on without too much fuss in the first place. choi has always been more of a hopeful person, if not an optimist. ]
[ There it is, so vivid he can feel its thrum jump against his skin — his smile. Given that acknowledgement, he doesn't waste time they already can't afford. The spell rifts in an instant; the sensation of their tether wanes back, severing the fortifying connection. All at once, the interior of the locker plunges into darkness.
Now, to see if it works. The creatures outside will surely sense what he's done, but will it cause them to turn elsewhere? Or will the darkness itself alert them? There's no telling. All he can do is believe he's made the right decision, and that Choi hasn't wrongly put his trust in him this time. Subaru holds his breath in these close quarters, heartbeat churning. The seconds stretch long. With the link gone, Sleep's whispers slither against his mind, sweet and soothing. And outside, something snarls.
His fingers that once drew the spell settle on Agent Choi's forearm, sensing the dull tension in him. Almost a question, if he had the space to ask it. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Some other bond is overlaying the one they have, casting this new light around. But the longer it lingers, the more Subaru understands that it's a beacon. Whatever calm it's giving him, whatever instincts it's sating in Choi, it's coming at a cost. The metal around them rattles and warms as something breathes outside the door, an eerie humidity flowing through the seams.
Silently, his fingers flex back from the door, away from the spell and where Choi holds it shut. His other hand tightens into his shirt as a warning. In that shift, his intent unfurls:
He's going to retract the spell. He's going to try and sever this link in favor of their tether.
Then it'll just be Choi's strength and their own silence standing between them and whatever's outside. ]
no subject
for him, it's the tensing of fabric—subaru's hand curling into his shirt that calls him back from this awareness and into the present moment. his mouth is filled with the sweet scent of tea, accompanied by paper and ink, and his lips curve into a smile in their brief distance from his skin.
Go ahead, he thinks, and his grip on the handle doesn't shift in the least. if this is the decision that subaru has made, agent choi can trust in that, and he can trust in himself too, he thinks. at least enough to protect the other man should push come to shove; if they're lucky enough, maybe those creatures outside will move on without too much fuss in the first place. choi has always been more of a hopeful person, if not an optimist. ]
no subject
Now, to see if it works. The creatures outside will surely sense what he's done, but will it cause them to turn elsewhere? Or will the darkness itself alert them? There's no telling. All he can do is believe he's made the right decision, and that Choi hasn't wrongly put his trust in him this time. Subaru holds his breath in these close quarters, heartbeat churning. The seconds stretch long. With the link gone, Sleep's whispers slither against his mind, sweet and soothing. And outside, something snarls.
His fingers that once drew the spell settle on Agent Choi's forearm, sensing the dull tension in him. Almost a question, if he had the space to ask it. ]