it’s really not that difficult of a confession to make. even though, some might argue, putting your heart on your sleeve for a display like that has probably got to be one of the most frightening things someone can do. ( of course it is, it means admitting yourself into a position of vulnerability. ) he knows, realistically, it’s a dangerous weapon to put into another’s hands —- and yet. he has everything stirring through him to quench any worries and fears. he has this steady feeling of bright tranquility sweeping through his bones to reiterate it’s nothing but the right choice. when you live the way jaime kaplan has been living, to love is a privilege and a life vest dangled above turbulent waters as he’s about to sink and drown. HE COULD NEVER FEAR THAT. how could he? he’s just been murdered at his boss’ orders ( the man dictating his entire life, basically ) and, instead, he can only focus on the way al’s features soften and the way he smiles — in that way that makes jaime exhibit a mirroring of the action. maybe, just maybe, he had a feeling this would be the reaper’s reaction. and maybe this is why he had no qualms throwing the confession out into the air. ( oh, to love and to be loved. )
“ don’t make me repeat myself, ” he jokes, deciding he’s very fond of the trills traveling down his spine as alistair’s fingers find a home at the back of his neck. he’s still smiling, just slightly, when he joins their foreheads and breathes in the kind of comfort similar to that of a cool breeze when the sun is scorching your skin. it’s not epic, or tumultuous, or enveloped in a blaze of glory the way they decide their hearts might just find themselves aligned and magnetized one toward another. they’re old souls ( one more than the other ), understanding the power a stable foundation can have when your legs feel like they might give in. he doesn’t say anything else ; there’s no need to say anything else. his arm moves around the reaper, his frame tipping in closer and allowing him to fall into a tentative embrace, his forehead seeking solace as it rests against al’s shoulder. at some point, the reaper became his pillar, his one definite constant while everything else in his life rapidly shifts and slips through his fingers. he shuts his eyes and, in the solitude of the darkness of his lids, with no other senses to run rampant, he can just feel him. he purposely empties his head of all the rampant thoughts, concerns, and questions that might put too much weight on this moment —- this moment of healing. he pulls back after that second that feels like a welcome eternity, drinks in alistair’s features, and mellows his expression with a rush of melancholy. “ it’s the one thing we have of our own, right? ” where everything else is dictated by duty, and rules, and others pushing them around as pawns on their table. there’s a hollow sadness to that truth, but he finds that he can also draw some strength from it.
“maybe it was your one shot to reconsider.” he jokes back. there’s a certain feeling of HAPPINESS bubbling under alistair’s skin. a kind of happiness that lived buried deep inside of him – one that for the most part, was only sparked when something absolutely superficial came to him. ( yes, an eternal conversation of life and death, and someone smart enough to follow his pace. or the meaning behind an artist’s masterpiece and what brought them to splatter the colors, and stroke the canvas in the way they did. ) but that was all it did. a scratch on the SURFACE. nothing ever enough to go deeper and pull it out of the encased corners of his very being. unbeknown to them, jaime had gone on a dive and slowly pulled them to the surface. with every word he said, every touch, every smile, and the soft spark of his eyes. every single detail building up to the moment where he realized exactly what had happened. that alistair, had in fact, started to care and LOVE jaime in a way he wouldn’t have allowed himself to do before. it’s not a GROUNDBREAKING revelation, it’s not shocking, he doesn’t expect fireworks to go off and that everything would be fine in the world. the reaper is not that idealistic, but he knows. no, he feels – this is how peace feels like. jaime makes him feel all the positives in the universe. everything he was too stubborn, or perhaps too AFRAID to let himself feel. one thing is for sure, he’s not afraid of this.
he relishes in the silence. the protective barrier they have from the world at the moment as he feels jaime’s arms around him, as he gently leans his cheek against his head. his thumb slowly stroking the back of his neck. al figures, he could stay in this embrace, sitting in silence, for eternity if he could. a soft sigh leaves his lips at jaime’s question – in a universe ruled by many powerful beings. where their choices seemed to be taken by others rather than themselves. this is a hard-hitting one. his lips curl up in a short smile, alistair is not oblivious as to what the meant. “yes,” his hands enclose around his face, the caress of his jaw as he looks into jaime’s eyes. with something akin to reassurance and finality. “this. us. it’s ours.” a beat, as he lets the meaning of his words settle. as he leans in to shortly press his lips against jaime’s. not for the first time, and certainly not for the last time either. it’s like a sealed promise, a shared treasure that he swears nothing or no one else will be able to take it away from them. it lingers for a moment, his lips rekindling with jaime’s like someone coming back home. he only breaks it to look back at him, and make a final promise. “i’m yours.” an assurance that goes beyond his words and feelings. that despite everything, jaime would always have someone to go back to, no matter how long time passes. no matter where they might be.
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