[Mend] for Clare and Louis!
[ MEND ] for sender to treat receiver’s wound which leads to them having to remove an article of clothing resulting in revealing scars hidden beneath
He was silent, body still, eyes vacant. A common sight for Clarence in a state of not… being in the same place as Loui. He could be speaking, and the assassin wasn't in the atmosphere. Though not reactive to being touched, he was easily manipulated though, so when he was asked to strip, he didn't move but when Louis was in the process of removing the layers that hide the bleeding wound, Clare didn't stop him.
No, revealed flesh, though tattoo'd heavily to cover as much as he could. His scars stood out all the more, the closer one was to their figure. It was like Clarence was a pin cushion with the amount of one - two cm divots of scars. Claw marks upon the ribs that were self-inflicted, hundreds of needle scarring from medical abuse, drug and healing purposes mixed in. The worst was always his nape and spine, a burn mark of something being pours on direct flesh - trailed down the right side of his upper back and just off his hip. The flesh never felt the same, nor looked it, and even with the tattoo ink upon it - it was mangled.
But it was okay - it was healed, he was alive.
He wasn't in that place any more, never could be… He slaughtered everyone that had harmed him enough times over.
Inhaling deep all of a sudden though, Clarence felt a bit of semblance return to his state, feeling Louis' arms around him, though not a hug, but it made him lean into their being as bandages were tugged taught, he felt the ache of his stab wound, though it was more a deep slash over his chest and side, just under his tit. It was a nice look - now that he realised what was happening and soon, he pulled himself up straight. Blinking several times as his mind fog cleared up and his sense of self was at his fingertips.
"Thanks." Though he could have done it himself, nights in the bathroom with thread and alcohol did wonders but to feel the sting of antiseptic washes and carefully placed stitches stuck onto his skin was just as great. Though he did miss the burn of vodka on his tongue to keep him from screaming on his own. "I… " Though he started, he didn't know what to say. Just fucked up and he was okay… ? Mission was a success, just some… extra bodies that needed clearing up on his escape. Just that… yeah… no… It was better to kill them.
Death saved them from a lifetime of growing up without all they knew.
It was the right decision.
Clarence moved without fanfare or flare, he wasn't seeking flamboyance but a moments support. Raising hand to Louis face to hold him still and promptly take their lips with shaking ones. Lashes flutter shut, the smell of blood, gunpowder and candy left in his memory for the taste of Louis, hot pockets and vape. A deeper taste of alcohol, properly the leftover red, something else - residue in their saliva that didn't matter once Clare retracts himself with a slow blink. Not gracing anything else in words and instead resting his forehead over Louis' shoulder to rest against them, on the floor, in solace of his decisions and choices and still beating heart.
