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]

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.