“Sol,” he whispered, lips numb around the syllable, and he couldn’t even hear the words himself despite how oppressively silent the snowfall was. If he could just raise his voice a little more, call out for him, scream, then…
He didn’t want to die alone.
He didn’t want to die alone.
Not when he was so close. When he was just on the other side of that door, still stirring his stupid fucking pancakes or maybe even putting them in the pan by now. He wanted to kiss him, hold him, trace his features with his fingers and see him smile, hear him laugh and tell him to quit being such a fucking drama queen and just finish shoveling the driveway so they could both go to work and get the day over with. So they could come home and eat dinner together, maybe curl up in bed and watch a movie while they drank more hot chocolate. Maybe make some more snow angels before tumbling under the blankets together to warm up.
Sollux was always so warm.
I am having intense Erisol feels...
