❝yeah, you sure do look like the picture of health there, glowstick.❞ he muttered under his breath, adjusting the loose-fitted cap. frankly, he looked anything but the normal tone one would expect from a healthy individual, though zander took that as the other’s natural state. ❝tell me something,❞ he pulled up the nearest chair, ❝do you have any idea the trouble that i had to go through today to find your ass?❞ there’s a hint of annoyance embedded in his query as well as his features with a furrowed brow. embarrassment didn’t fully cover the brewing emotions he had gone through earlier in the day. the thought of a bodyguard losing track of his clients while they drunk themselves stupid was enough to tarnish his credibility for the rest of his life.
of all the clients zander had the misfortune of looking after, kokabiel was undoubtedly the most difficult to handle both physically and verbally since he had first taken the job. looking back on it now, he wished their agreement had come with all the various obscure details he regularly faced with the other. ❝i had to call up a buddy of mine to check the cctv cameras around this dump. all the while, you’re hauled up some trashy bar filled with sketchy people, knocked down shots of liquor like it’s friday night. what the hell is your deal, huh? you take pride in being such a pain in the ass?❞
he’s shaking ― shoulder’s slumped, watching zander with a glossy look in his eye that hadn’t graced his expression for a millennia. never allow yourself to feel ; it was a lesson he had taught himself over the years and yet something he came to believe was impossible, considering not only what he was, but also the way zander made him feel.
and maybe, just maybe....in the clouded haze of his drunken state, he would finally make it evident.
he’s moving with a clarity that hadn’t been viewed since that night began, sliding forwards as he reaches forward and grips the edge of zander’s seat. a small yank, coupled with unnatural strength, pulls the other male closer towards him, hand raising to wrap around the other’s nape and tug his head closer. it’s a blatant change in approach to what kokabiel had shown the mortal (as well as the entirety of the human race, rather), yet there lies determination written across his face as the elf moves closer....closer....and then they meet. foreheads pressed tightly against one another, a warmth spreading over either of their skin as a calming and yet supernatural blue begins to glow within kokabiel’s eyes. for a moment, their stares and the silence between them is the only thing that lingers ― then his lids shut, and everything changes.
flashes of memories, thoughts, emotions zip within their minds; moving pictures of kokabiel’s past, time spent drifting among the stars, a boy one with the space around him and yet not at all just the same. the fluttering of hope within his chest as he seeks to help another, the taste of fear on his tongue as he is banished from the only home he has ever known. falling, falling....falling to earth where the bitter scent of pines and the solitude of snow surround him. chained to a form not his own, forced to linger among those who would never understand him.
and when it is all over, there seems to be left with only a singular star in the distance he has yet to find he is afraid of ― zander.
kokabiel pulls back after what feels like an eternity, though the entire ordeal must have merely lasted a few seconds. the glow in his eyes are gone, replaced by tears that flow silently yet freely down ethereal skin. there is vulnerability in the elf’s eyes, pushing himself back on the bed and away from zander’s seated figure until his back hits the crumbling wall and he’s drawing his knees up to his chest. sobriety has filled him, but hope has left him.