#*kenneth sutton.

[survivedsa]

“i wanted us to be together.”  @wanlidas.

“so you just decided to come to hilltop... did you do it alone?” kenneth asks, not quite sure if it’s awe or horror he wishes to express, both felt in equal measure, a sickening sensation of fear pulsing near his heart. he looks benjamin over, studiously checking for wounds while simultaneously marveling at his presence  -  drifting closer, as if he’s uncertain if this is real or just a dream. when fingers connect with benjamin’s chin, he gives a little yelp, then bites down on his tongue as he flushes red with embarrassment. “i mean, it’s romantic an’ all, but, christ  ----” voice wavers some, kenny sucking in a sharp breath, but it’s impossible to linger on fear when benjamin is truly here. he settles comfortably into gratitude instead, that ben is here, unscathed, kenneth’s nose scrunching as he threads a hand into ben’s hair. “it is good to see you,” he says after a moment, “but i just... don’t want you hurt.”

[survivedsa]

wouldn’t you rather go inside instead of staying out here?  @buildhope​.

“i’m fine where i am.” though his body acts in direct defiance of this assurance, shivering slightly in the late february chill, kenneth’s tone is weighted with insistence, dangerously near agitation. he pulls his coat tighter round his waist, shifts his gaze upward towards alden only momentarily, before returning his attention to the letter he holds in a trembling grip  -  a little stained by age, fading ink and frayed edges, distinctly lined from constant refolding. its contents are memorized, but there’s a comfort in seeing benjamin’s handwriting; a reminder that he was here once, tangible, living in this world and not solely in kenneth’s memory. he prefers to be alone in this reliving, but the irritation alden’s presence sparks is fleeting, either unable to muster the energy to maintain such negativity  -  or unwilling to try.

it isn’t anger he wishes to focus on, not with benji so close.

but the initial sentiment remains; kenneth’s still unmoving, curled into himself atop the wall, a bow and quiver at his side, should the need for it arise  -  though he’s not entirely invested in watching beyond the wall, he has occasionally observed for movement in the darkness, whispering to himself the worn words. i wish i could see you, they had written to one another, and he recites it for the both of them  - feeling it sharply, like a blade slicing skin. wish i could see you.

“mom and dad send you to find me?” please, let it be a no; despite all his love for them, it’s not something he can handle right now, his mother’s worry at the hurt she’s always able to spot, heavy and dark in his eyes. he knows alden must see it, too; he’s perceptive like mom, but not as intense in his concern, a manageable comfort. “i just needed a lil’ alone time. fresh air, too. y’know?”