@guiltscorched said: [ REST ] sender places their head in receiver’s lap. / late inbox call! fyodor for sigma, if this is ok!
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[ REST ] sender places their head in receiver’s lap
Sigma looks down in a blend of surprise and concern when the winter demon lays his head upon his lap. Is he okay? Does he feel unwell? Does he need to lay down? The questions fly to the tip of his tongue, held back like a glass door by observing eyes. Fyodor is more of an enigma than other people. Even with Sigma’s gift in observing people to respond, he is not so easy to contain in the way his patrons are. But he doesn’t mind that. If something was wrong, then he’s certain Fyodor would have said something or given more of a clear sign.
His features soften now with the tension of alarm dismissed, a faint smile painted upon his lips. He must be comfortable to relax likes this. It makes a bird in his chest sing with delight to know that he can offer Fyodor somewhere that even he can be at rest and peace. There are no threats here in the sky where the angel rules above all. It may not be the safety of the underground, but it is a place that will always be welcoming to those seeking refuge and escape from the world below. Even for the Russian.
Hesitant fingers hover above black locks for a moment before Sigma lowers is hand to gently comb through midnight silk strands with featherlight touches. But they aren’t light from fear. On the contrary, it was with tender reverence and care offered to only the most important symbols. How cold he not? Fyodor was a savior in his eyes - the first who’d treated him as a person, to be truthful to their word. Something like this felt like the least he could do to show even just a fraction of that.
Not to mention, he did worry for the other man sometimes. Even if Fyodor could evade the traps that would have brought down nearly anyone else, there were other matters. If he slept enough, if he ate enough, if he took time just to breathe. Perhaps it was silly. So be it. Sigma would worry for him all the same.
“ Tired? “ Sigma speaks quietly with mellifluous gentleness, tucking a strand of hair behind Fyodor’s ear carefully before resuming his efforts of offering soothing peace in his touch. He could offer a room if he wanted a bed. But...he looked at peace in Sigma’s lap, and the angel was loathed to disturb such tranquility. He didn’t mind it, even if the other dozed off to sleep. The angel would watch over and guard his peace.
