Cade's Inbox

[onlyhymns]

[For personal threads, memos, things left in his quarters for him to stumble on, confessions of love, injunctions, jars of bees, and so forth.]

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[onlyhymns]

Normally, Cade would be a lot more reticent, but he gets a good feeling from Cole. A feeling that tells him perhaps he won't be judged so harshly, his life ruined, if he does this thing.
He made it through the encounter with Zevran, even if he's afraid to show his face to the elf again. But perhaps, sometimes, people do want to help and not just push him down further.

He tentatively rests his hand on Cole's, not even curling his fingers-- he just lays it there, waiting for the boy to do what he will. Already he can feel a tension in his chest, a lump in his throat as he watches the youth across from him.

[colecomfort]

Cole's fingers curl upward only a little, his palm softening in response to Cade's hand.

There's a softer, brighter place inside him somewhere. A part that remains unaffected, separate from everything sharp and brittle. Cole not only needs to remind him that it's there, but that there is a divide — a space that might, with time, be allowed to soften and expand, until the pain washes away.

"Mother in the kitchen, reaching out to take the basket of mushrooms. Passing down a warm, buttery crust of bread. 'Another log for the fire, Kitty' — it was so heavy, I needed both arms. But it made her smile."

Warmth. Family. Service to something simple and good. The memories light up, old coals stoked back to life. This is where you can start.

[onlyhymns]

A quick, jarring intake of breath heralds Cade's sudden awareness of what he's being shown, and his face goes white as a sheet. He stares forward at nothing, something buried deep inside feeling as though it will batter through an invisible wall he didn't realize was there. It's like a punch in the lungs.

Mum. It's been so long since he saw her, she's become an abstract concept to him, a memory of a memory that affects nothing about his life. But suddenly she's real again, and the barrage of warmth and pleasantness is almost more painful than the cold emptiness that would remain if he had just let himself continue to forget.

[colecomfort]

The harsh reaction is enough to capture the attention of the Tranquil, who looks away from the bowl of soup with that characteristically blank expression. Cole ducks his head, knowing he's been noticed, prepared to force them to forget, but the Tranquil doesn't make a move beyond that. Only watches, as if waiting for something more to react to. Some signal from Cade that intervention is required.

Cole's hand doesn't move. If Cade flinches away, he will allow it, but he hopes he won't have to. He keeps his palm soft, his fingers lightly curled.

"You were able to let love in, once." Because there was nothing blocking its way. Allowing its passage again will take work, but it's possible. "There was a place for it. There still is."

[onlyhymns]

Cade gives them no such signal, instead turning his head away, hiding his expression from them and at least half from Cole. His face screws up in anguish, his shoulders tensing as though he's expecting a physical blow. To Cole, he shakes his head lightly. He doesn't believe it. No one will ever love him like that again.

[colecomfort]

Cole looks down at their hands, now, as if reminding Cade of the connection. Positive touch. It's not the only one he's been offered recently, and it won't be the last.

"The spaces are there, even if you don't see them." There's little he can say, probably, that will make Cade believe that. It's enough that the idea is presented to him. So perhaps it's better if Cole leaves him with that.

He allows for one more pause before he slips his hand away, slowly, then stands, the chair underneath him scraping against the floor. He begins to walk away.

The Tranquil blinks. "That young man made very little sense."

[onlyhymns]

Cade allows Cole's hand to slip away, and sits there for several moments after, mulling over what the boy said. He's all but paralyzed by the new rawness of his being, an infected wound torn back open so it could be cleaned and dressed properly. After a lifetime of dull and constant despair, feeling a true and honest emotion like this is a shock.
He doesn't even look at the Tranquil, instead just sitting there and staring forward like one himself.