Cont. [x] // @shoot-of-corruption
His back is against the armrest of the farthest right of the couch. His eyes are closed while his body is completely relaxed from mediation. He feels as light as feather, not a muscle is tense, not even when he’s sitting upright. His waist has something to lean on and that’s enough. The sunrays play along the glass of the window as though fingers playing on piano keys. A dance of summer light, falling upon tanned skin, feeling like it’s caressing Atem’s face. And at that second… he is reminded of his mother.
The warmest and gentlest of hands used to cradle his weepy little face when he was a little kid. And the next thing he’s half asleep upon his mother’s lap as she is running her fingers through his hair. He remembers it being the best feeling ever. As though he was nestled upon a cloud and the sunshine is caressing his face and hair. It couldn’t get any better. How he misses it so…
And then as he peers his eyes open he could spot a familiar figure. An idea comes across his mind but he’s not entirely sure if Mariku would be up for it. He gives it a shot anyways.
When the other accepts his offer, Atem adjusts his position to ensure Mariku would be comfortable. Oh… it isn’t like he can physically feel discomfort. He keeps forgetting that. Still. Atem wants it to be done right. And as the blond sat beside him and looked at him, the former pharaoh displays a radiant smile.
Atem lightly tilts his head forward and dips his chin. He waits a moment after Mariku rests his head in his lap. He motions his hands carefully but stops them mid-air when the other mentions something that has his mind on pause. He used to hate people touching his hair… Atem tries not to think too much about it. It could be anything. He also dislikes it if someone tries to touch his hair without permission. Or they both have their hair so perfectly styled that they may not want that ruined. But it could be just about anything else. And then the second comment follows. Atem lightly shakes his head. As much as he wants to ask about it he decides it's best that he doesn't at the very moment.
“Let me know if this is alright. You can tell me if there's something you don't like.”
His ring-adorned fingers slowly and delicately brush along the base of Mariku’s hair and proceed to the top of his head before stopping and repeating the move again. Occasionally Atem would massage the other’s scalp for a couple of seconds before continuing the main motion. His eyes become half-lidded as he begins thinking of his mother once again. Endorphins are quickly produced in his brain and he’s feeling a sense of peace and safety. He pays attention to Mariku’s reactions simultaneously, making his hands become slower as they caress the other’s hair and linger from above as light as he could make them be.