There's a rush of too many emotions, none of them easy to sort through, and Dokja is overwhelmed all at once. To see Eustace smiling, to hear his voice, to know that he'd made it back to this house, dispelling any fears of lost memories, comes as a relief so heavy that Dokja's expression immediately crumples. He'd been holding strong for months now, carefully building up a wall to hold back the trials he's had to endure, loss after loss, pain after bitter pain.
But now, in the face of Eustace, it breaks. Eustace is here and he remembers and Dokja could yell about it in pure happiness, but the only sound he can muster now is a shaking sob as he grabs the other man and pulls him in for a tight hug, smashing his new glasses against his tear-streaked face along the way. When had he even started crying?
It's uncomfortable, but he doesn't care. The last few months have been so devastatingly awful, one thing after another with no end in sight until now. ]
You... [ His voice comes out muffled and choked as he keeps his face pressed against Eustace's shoulder. ] ... Stupid bastard.
[ His idle puzzlement is shortlived, immediately dropkicked away as arms wrap around him tightly and the hard press of glasses dig into his shoulders. For a moment, he thinks he's being assaulted in some way - shoved over for being an unwanted intruder maybe, or tackled to the ground in the face of a third party assault. It's only after the initial wave of alarm passes that he has the presence of mind to put all the pieces together. The trembling shoulders at the bottom of his field of vision. The shaky breaths he can still hear despite how muffled they are in his shirt.
His fingers curl. Uncurl. Raise, then falter, then raise back up again until his own arms are wrapped around Dokja in a sad mirror of the hug he's been given, less desperate and more cautious. He isn't good at soothing words or comforting gestures, especially when he doesn't have any idea of the root cause of the discomfort. (Because all this misery can't be because of him. There's no way anyone would miss him that much.) ]
Sorry.
[ Just a single word, soft and regretful. For leaving (even against his will). For not being there when he said he would. For not coming back sooner (not that he would have known how). For making yet another person important to him cry, when all he'd ever wanted was their happiness.
With a sigh, he lets his head drop forward, eyes closing as his cheek comes to a rest against dark hair. Sensing the sudden downward tick in mood, Raisin the dog shifts his attention away from Eustace and back to Dokja, nose nudging softly against his leg. ]
[ It feels so incredibly selfish to be this genuinely happy to have Eustace back in a place like this, but Dokja's never claimed to be a selfless person. He thought he'd been managing it well enough alone, keeping everything close to his heart as he's prone to do, not giving an inch when others asked for a slight budge. It's only now, holding on to Eustace like this, that he realizes he would have vastly preferred to have someone there. Someone that he knows and trusts and likes.
His shoulders sag as he releases a shaky exhale. The apology sits like a rock in his chest, its hidden meanings not lost on Dokja for once. He'd really fooled himself here, hadn't he. Maybe it's because they had arrived in Horos together, been through so much together, but Dokja had though that Eustace at least would be the one constant in this new life. And maybe that's still true, considering that he's come back. But it's just as true that Eustace can disappear like the others, and that makes Dokja anxious.
A taste of his own medicine, honestly. Is this what the others had gone through back then? ]
Yeah, well. [ He swallows thickly, refusing to move to save himself the embarrassment of having his crying face witnessed, but also because it feels nice to stay right here. ] Don't do it again.
[ He tries for a stern, almost chiding tone, but it really just comes out sounding pathetic and sad. The nudge against his leg finally has Dokja moving, but only to turn his head to the side so that his glasses aren't digging into his face. Sorry, Raisin, he can't reach down for a reassuring pet because he doesn't want to let go just yet. ]
[ There are probably a few passersby glancing their way, marveling to themselves about the couple standing in front of their door having a very tearful reunion, but Eustace can't bring himself to care, still too focused on Dokja's well-being to care about anything else ]
Sure, mom.
[ His own attempt at levity's met with about the same level of success, coming out more resigned than reassuring. It's not a promise and they both know it. He can't promise something like that when so much of that promise hinges on factors outside of his control. All he can do is stay as close as he can while he's still in Kenos, and prepare for a future in which he might not exist.
For the time being, he drags his thoughts back to the present, frowning again as Dokja shifts and the sudden lack of metal digging into his skin reminds him of his query from earlier. ]
You never answered my question. When did you get glasses?
[ Surely they can't just be for fashion. Did something happen while he was gone...? Something beyond the usual bullshit this place likes to spring on them. ]
[ They are most certainly a scene and while Dokja would normally be self-conscious about it, he's too deep in his feelings right now to pay it any mind. It's only when Eustace brings up the glasses for a second time that Dokja tenses in reaction, sure to be felt when held together like this, and he finally draws away with visible reluctance.
He can't meet Eustace's gaze for a number of reasons, the main one being that he won't be approaching the truth of the matter, the second in fear that the thin ring of gold around his right eye might be spotted, and the third being that Dokja looks like a damn mess after crying. He takes off the glasses, folding them into his pocket, and then raises both hands to rub away at his tear-stained face. How embarrassing. ]
I just need them to read, [ he admits, voice slightly hoarse thanks to the cryfest. ] My eyesight isn't what it used to be.
[ That makes him sound so old... But his gaze moves to take in Eustace's unsanitary state, and Dokja frowns as he reaches to take him by the wrist to pull him further inside the house. ]
[ He needs them to read? His eyesight isn't what it used to be?? What kind of lame-ass excuses are those anyway?
His confusion only grows as he obediently follows Dokja back into the house without protest (because he does desperately need a hot shower after a long day), though there's a brief pause in the buzzing of his emotions as he takes a look around after stepping inside, noting what's changed (not much) and what hasn't (most of everything else). Content that a major disaster hasn't wrecked the house, he shifts his attention back to Dokja. ]
You can't be that much older than me. [ Hahahahahaha. ] Did you get injured in a fight while I was gone?
[ Sure, the guy reads a ton of books but he's always read a ton of books? A handful of months isn't going to make that much of a difference in ruining his eyesight, surely.
Behind them, Raisin pads his way back to his original spot, content now that the residents of the house are back where they should be. ]
[ Why does Eustace have to be such a dog with a bone about this...
Once all three of them are back inside, Dokja closes the front door and herds Eustace into the master bathroom. He would absolutely love to move past this subject, or at the very least, delay it. There's a sneaking suspicion that Gray might already know what happened with how quietly attentive she had been after his return, and it's really only a matter of time before Eustace eventually finds out, either from her or someone else. So they don't have to talk about it right now, he reasons. ]
I think you'll be proud to know I haven't gotten into any fights since you've been gone.
[ Mostly because he just stood there and got shot.
But anyway! In an attempt to busy himself and make it look very much like he's done with this line of conversation, he starts the shower and carefully adjusts the knob to the right temperature. ]
Dokja is at least correct about one thing; there's a small bubble of relief that rises and pops at the reassurance that, no, nothing happened as a matter of fact and everything is fine. Could it be a lie? Sure, but he'd like to think that he and Dokja have moved past the stage where they constantly hide things from each other. (Hahahaha.) It might not be enough to chase away his concern entirely, but between the fatigue from having to claw his way out of Alenroux and the overall guilt still weighing heavily on his shoulders at having up and vanished, he lets any further nagging die on his tongue.
The hiss of water hitting the tub adds another layer of distraction, and it's not until his shirt is pulled halfway off that he registers what's wrong with the situation. Namely, that they are now in the bathroom and that there's another person in there with him. ]
[ It's not a lie! It's just dodging the truth! This is exactly how a liar would rationalize it, but that would require more self-awareness than Dokja possesses right now. Besides, he's doing this for Eustace's sake, he tells himself. After all, the man looks like he's crawled straight out of hell, so the priority is to get him cleaned off and settled in.
With that in mind, Dokja turns back around now that the shower is running at a nice, warm temperature. His gaze momentarily stutters at the show of skin in front of him, and then his features quickly shift into a defensive scowl. ]
Why not? I've seen you naked before.
[ Imagine admitting that he's too anxious to have Eustace leave his sight. But, recognizing that he does sound a little ridiculous in this moment, Dokja makes for the door. ]
I'll get you a towel and a change of clothes. I'll be right back, so don't lock the door. Gray's not home.
[ He ain't disappearing in the middle of a shower, settle down. ]
Just leave them out—
[ Too late, there Dokja goes, already out the door before he can finish his sentence. For a second he genuinely considers closing and locking the bathroom door just to be contrary, but the urge subsides as soon as it arrives, quelled by the reminded of Dokja's tear-streaked face. What right does he have to act stubborn when people have suffered because of him?
Still, he makes no move to actually hop in the shower, taking a seat on the edge of the tub after shucking off his shirt and setting it aside. He will take the clothes and towel when they come and then Dokja can go back outside and wait like a normal person. ]
[ By the time he returns, he's expecting Eustace to be in the shower, so when he isn't, Dokja pauses by the bathroom door with a perplexed look on his face. Maybe the water's too cold? But he'd checked it before and it had felt fine... Or does Eustace not feel well enough to stand?
Questions and concerns that normally wouldn't pass through his thoughts at such an alarming speed or intensity come forward now, a true testament to how much anxiety still buzzes under the surface of his skin. It still feels weird having Eustace back, their reunion short and brief, and Dokja finds that he wants to prolong this time as much as he can with the help of any excuse to linger, to talk. ]
Is something wrong?
[ He walks in to set the clothes and towel on the bathroom counter, then stands there with no intent to leave. ]
[ While the water continues to run in the background (RIP their water bill), he squints up at Dokja. He doesn't remember Dokja being this much of a worrier, but he also doesn't remember anything that's happened in the past however long it's been since he's stepped foot inside this household. Something still doesn't feel quite right but there's no way he's going to be able to find out what that is without an extensive Q&A session.
Which he can do after a much-needed shower.
Finally, after too much prolonged staring, he gets up. Carefully places one hand against Dokja's upper arm in order to maneuver him out of the bathroom. ]
I'll be out soon.
[ Go back to the couch and read or something while he showers in peace. ]
[ All the staring unnerves Dokja, and he finds himself angling his body in such a way to hide the signs of Discord manifesting as scales against the side of his neck. But before he can break the silence and ask a second question, he's being guided by a hand on his arm, protest caught in his throat as he's led out of the bathroom.
He stands there, watching as the door closes with a click, and rather than return to the living room, he steps back until his back hits the opposite wall, then slides down against it. He takes a seat right there, knees pulled up to his chest while his arms rest on top of them, with his gaze trained on the bathroom door. Like this, he strains to hear footsteps on tile, the sound of a shower curtain being pulled open, then closed, and then the pattering of water against skin.
Signs that a person is in the bathroom. Signs that they aren't disappearing again.
When Eustace gets out of the shower, he'll find Dokja still there, seated across the door, like a person with severe seperation anxiety. ]
But there's no attempt being made on the other side to muffle any of the noises within. Eustace has better things to do (and a lack of understanding of Dokja's current condition )than to bother moderating his actions.
True to his word, he doesn't spend too much time in the shower. Past the brief minute he allows himself to stare blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, he moves with his usual efficiency, and it's not long until he's drying himself off with the provided towel and pulling on a clean set of clothes, blessedly free of dirt and sweat. He might be back at 100%, but he's feeling much better than when he crawled out of Alenroux with Johnny on his back.
Or, was, until he opens the door and sees Dokja sitting on the floor like some sort of sad abandoned animal left out in the rain.
The sense of unease from before grows, spreading out further underneath his skin, and he doesn't waste any in striding across the bedroom, not stopping until he's looming over Dokja a foot away. His damp towel hangs limply from one hand, forgotten in the wake of this more pressing concern. ]
Hey. [ It comes out a little more curt than he intends, worry twisting into brusqueness out of habit. ] What's going on?
[ Because there is definitely something going on here. No normal person huddles on the ground with their eyes trained on the door while their housemate showers for five minutes. ]
[ It's easy to wait five minutes, especially while disassociating. It's only when he hears the bathroom door start to open that he snaps back to full consciousness, and Eustace's reappearance instantly removes a heavy weight that had sat itself upon Dokja's chest. He'd only just started to get used to not having Eustace around the house, and to suddenly have him back means readjusting quickly.
... Uh?
Whatever Dokja had wanted to say fades away as Eustace strides over to him, and the question is entirely unexpected as well. Blinking a couple of times in confusion, Dokja hurries to get to his feet, not wanting to crane his neck to look up the entire time. ]
What? [ He sounds genuinely confused. ] What do you mean?
[ He straightens to a stand, though there's not really any place to go with his back to the wall and Eustace right in front of him. Like this, it might be easier to see the subtle change to one of his eyes, or the way that white scales gleam against the side of his neck, continuing on and disappearing under the collar of his shirt, or how his canines have elongated enough to the point of nearly being fangs. A lot seems to have changed in the time Eustace was gone. ]
[ Hard to tell if Dokja's telling the truth or if he's simply feigning ignorance. Not that it really matters. The disquiet that's clung to him ever since he'd woken up earlier that day only grows, expanding in the pit of his stomach and turning his muscles stiff. It doesn't help that, this close, he can catch the uneven glint of light off shimmering scales and the strange discoloration in one eye. His frown deepens without him realizing.
What the fuck is going on? Just what exactly had he missed? Were these changes that he'd always been meant to undergo? Or had this place done something to him in its usual cruel and uncaring way?
His old habit of bulldozing forward until he gets the answers he wants threatens to break past the surface, the itch to grab Dokja by the shirt collar tingling in his fingertips. Instead he curls his hands into tighter fists, subduing the urge to demand instead of understand with a careful inhale of breath. ]
Were you sitting here the entire time? Were you that worried something was going to happen?
[ It doesn't take a genius - or their aspect connection - to notice the concern that radiates off him. ]
[ Oh. The concern wraps around him like tendrils, easy to recognize but hard to discern amidst his own worries feeding back toward him. He hadn't really given it too much thought what it must look like, what he must look like, curled up against the wall and willing to wait however long for Eustace to reemerge. It had just been an instinct, an anxious hope.
He doesn't respond right away, fingers reaching forward to take hold of the hem of Eustace's shirt. They absentmindedly rub at the material there, and Dokja wonders if Eustace can recognize it as being his shirt, back when he'd brought the few belongings that he could after his house had been destroyed. Dokja had kept everything, which reminds him to return the gun soon, but for now, he nods stiffly. ]
Yeah.
[ His voice is quiet as he drops his gaze to focus on where his fingers still run across the shirt's hem. He doesn't know what Eustace had been through while gone, if that time had been a blink of an eye, or if the days had been as agonizingly long as they'd been for Dokja. So much had happened, more than he wants to think back on, but significant losses have left him feeling more alone than ever. ]
Sooyoung disappeared, too. Around the same time you did.
It's not like he can't understand. If anything, he ought to understand more than anyone what it feels like to be abruptly left behind without any warning, the sole person remaining after everyone else has vanished without a trace. The misery that threatens to pull everything under into its depths, the unreasonable fear of losing even more despite any lack of evidence pointing to the contrary.
Worry turns to guilt, and that in turn shifts to a heavy sorrow. The trials of that morning seem so distant now, his own predicament paling in the wake of the wreckage left behind.
His free hand finally loosens, fingers lifting to curl lightly over the ones tugging at his shirt hem. Not to stop the idle movements of Dokja's hands, but simply to provide another layer of reassurance. ]
I can't promise I won't disappear again. [ He doesn't have the knowledge nor the power to guarantee it, and he's never been in the habit of making promises he can't keep. ] But I won't go anywhere without telling you beforehand, while I'm here.
[ His fingers still once others come to join him, and Dokja doesn't even think as he releases the shirt to curl his hand into Eustace's instead. He'd never really done anything like this before Kenos, but strangely enough, it's become a regular thing between the two of them here, and he won't deny that it comes as a comfort. It's easy to slot their hands together like this, fingers intertwined, the heat of their palms held close, and Dokja hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now.
He won't lie and say that he isn't disappointed at not hearing a promise, but he knows that's unreasonable of him. Neither of them are in control of the situation they're in, and a sharp pang shoots through his heart at that reminder.
If only he could do something. A dark, possessive thought creeps along the corners of his mind, but Dokja's quick to recognize it as not belonging to him, and he smothers it before it manifests to the surface. He... has to be careful now. Even more than before.
With a shaking exhale, he nods once more. ]
Okay, [ he says softly, not sounding entirely convinced. ] I'll try, but... it might take a couple of days.
[ Dokja finally glances back up to meet Eustace's gaze before quickly looking away. He's not used to admitting things like this. He's not sure why it puts an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, or why he's suddenly so aware of their proximity to each other. ]
I won't follow you everywhere, but while you're home, I'd just... want to be around.
[ Maybe it's a good thing that he doesn't have anything immediate to take care of now that he's back, and can just lounge at home for the next few days. (Home. Strange to call a place that when he's avoided using that term for so long, but that's what this house and the people inside have become to him now.)
He doesn't waste any time in replying, nodding his head once in agreement. ]
Sure.
[ An easy enough request to agree to, especially when the benefits of acquiesing far outweigh the costs. They've grown used to each other enough in the past year that the additional company no longer bothers him, and he has to admit that it'll be nice to keep an eye on Dokja too while he can. ]
Do I need to move my bed in here so you can be nearby even while I'm asleep?
[ It's a joke mostly (and also kind of creepy) but if it'll go a ways in easing some of that overwhelming anxiety, he'll go and move that bed right now. It's a small price to pay, after all. ]
[ Yes, home. Get used to it. The first time Dokja had let that word slip in conversation, he'd paused in both disbelief and mild horror, but it's gotten easier to say the more he says it. And with Eustace back, with him here, it feels more like home than before with the way they comfortably slot back into their well-established dynamic. Dokja doesn't even bother hiding the relief on his face when Eustace agrees, anxiety now finally starting to bleed away. ]
What for? We've both fit on this bed before.
[ He doesn't think about his words as he says them, only a moment's pause to show that he's caught what he'd said a little too late. But rather than awkwardly dwell on it, Dokja just barges on ahead.
Strangely, he finds that he doesn't have the energy to care about how it sounds. ]
Are you tired? Did you want to rest for a bit? I can read next to you while you do.
[ No promises not to watch Eustace while he sleeps, though. You know, just to make sure he's actually there and breathing. Not for any other creepy reasons! ]
[ Dokja's really out here suggesting that they sleep together again without even blinking an eye, huh.
That's fine, Eustace will pause long enough for the both of them, head tilting a centimeter to the left as he processes all of those words in succession. Dokja really doesn't see what's wrong with two grown men sharing the same bed for several days in a row, does he? The boundaries between them are quickly growing blurred, more lines in the sand erased the longer they spend in each other's company. It makes him nervous, for reasons he can't quite (or rather, doesn't fully want to) articulate.
Well. Dokja isn't wrong. They have both fit on the bed together before. And it would be easier than dragging a whole-ass bed back and forth over the span of the next week. He stamps down on his unease and lets the suggestion slide, his silence on the subject a tacit acceptance of the suggestion. ]
I'm fine. [ Sure, he's tired, but it's not anything that needs to be addressed immediately. A couple nights of good sleep should do the trick. ] What about you? You look like you haven't slept in days.
He seriously doesn't look at all bothered by his own suggestion of sharing the bed, and why should he? He's utilizing the tried-and-true method of not thinking about the things he says, and just choosing to say them regardless of potential outcomes. He trusts Eustace to not think too deeply about it either, because that's the kind of people they are.
But with the attention now rounding on him, he looks a bit uncomfortable, especially when he's still trapped between Eustace and the wall like this. Dokja glances away, an uncertain smile in place as he moves to slide to the side to create more distance between them. ]
Oh, you know me. Not much of a sleeper.
[ That much has always been true. It's just that these days, he can't stand to close his eyes and sink into the darkness. It feels like something's waiting for him there, which sounds childishly ridiculous, but it's a newfound fear that's manifested itself with his growing Discord. ]
i take it back, i'm making my own dreams come true
[ nvm we're making a tiny kabedon happen, who else is gonna read this thread anyway
Regardless, that's the shittiest nonexcuse he's ever heard in his life and there's an unreal amount of judgment in his eyes as he stares down at Dokja trying to weasel his way out. Mercifcully (for Dokja), Eustace still thinks the restlessness is tied to plain old anxiety and nothing more sinister. That, and they're both out of sorts right now. Any interrogations can be saved for later days, after things have smoothed out.
The good news is that he doesn't ask any further questions. The bad news is that he falls on old habits, the hand with the towel coming up to rest against the wall and block any attempt at a covert exit. Don't go anywhere, buddy. ]
Take a nap. [ That's a demand, by the way, not a suggestion. ] Before you fall over and crack your head open on a side table.
[ A man can only survive on sheer determination and coffee for so long. ]
[ Wow. Dokja's thoughts immediately blank out when Eustace kabedons him, and he is effectively held in place. What is this... It's not like he's some schoolgirl in an empty hallway with the quiet, popular guy suddenly basking him in attention, but it sure feels that way for a Reason that he refuses to delve into.
Blinking away the absurdity of this situation, Dokja forces himself to meet Eustace's gaze with an incredulous look of his own. How is he supposed to sleep, become totally unconscious, when he's the one trying to obsessively keep an eye on Eustace who has just returned? He can't do both things at once. ]
I'm not tired.
[ Which is extremely hard to believe given how exhausted he looks, but he stubbornly sets his jaw in the usual way that makes it obvious that he won't be budged from this in the slightest. Bet Eustace missed this. ]
You take a nap. Or at least lie down. What even happened to you in the time you were gone?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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There's a rush of too many emotions, none of them easy to sort through, and Dokja is overwhelmed all at once. To see Eustace smiling, to hear his voice, to know that he'd made it back to this house, dispelling any fears of lost memories, comes as a relief so heavy that Dokja's expression immediately crumples. He'd been holding strong for months now, carefully building up a wall to hold back the trials he's had to endure, loss after loss, pain after bitter pain.
But now, in the face of Eustace, it breaks. Eustace is here and he remembers and Dokja could yell about it in pure happiness, but the only sound he can muster now is a shaking sob as he grabs the other man and pulls him in for a tight hug, smashing his new glasses against his tear-streaked face along the way. When had he even started crying?
It's uncomfortable, but he doesn't care. The last few months have been so devastatingly awful, one thing after another with no end in sight until now. ]
You... [ His voice comes out muffled and choked as he keeps his face pressed against Eustace's shoulder. ] ... Stupid bastard.
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His fingers curl. Uncurl. Raise, then falter, then raise back up again until his own arms are wrapped around Dokja in a sad mirror of the hug he's been given, less desperate and more cautious. He isn't good at soothing words or comforting gestures, especially when he doesn't have any idea of the root cause of the discomfort. (Because all this misery can't be because of him. There's no way anyone would miss him that much.) ]
Sorry.
[ Just a single word, soft and regretful. For leaving (even against his will). For not being there when he said he would. For not coming back sooner (not that he would have known how). For making yet another person important to him cry, when all he'd ever wanted was their happiness.
With a sigh, he lets his head drop forward, eyes closing as his cheek comes to a rest against dark hair. Sensing the sudden downward tick in mood, Raisin the dog shifts his attention away from Eustace and back to Dokja, nose nudging softly against his leg. ]
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His shoulders sag as he releases a shaky exhale. The apology sits like a rock in his chest, its hidden meanings not lost on Dokja for once. He'd really fooled himself here, hadn't he. Maybe it's because they had arrived in Horos together, been through so much together, but Dokja had though that Eustace at least would be the one constant in this new life. And maybe that's still true, considering that he's come back. But it's just as true that Eustace can disappear like the others, and that makes Dokja anxious.
A taste of his own medicine, honestly. Is this what the others had gone through back then? ]
Yeah, well. [ He swallows thickly, refusing to move to save himself the embarrassment of having his crying face witnessed, but also because it feels nice to stay right here. ] Don't do it again.
[ He tries for a stern, almost chiding tone, but it really just comes out sounding pathetic and sad. The nudge against his leg finally has Dokja moving, but only to turn his head to the side so that his glasses aren't digging into his face. Sorry, Raisin, he can't reach down for a reassuring pet because he doesn't want to let go just yet. ]
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Sure, mom.
[ His own attempt at levity's met with about the same level of success, coming out more resigned than reassuring. It's not a promise and they both know it. He can't promise something like that when so much of that promise hinges on factors outside of his control. All he can do is stay as close as he can while he's still in Kenos, and prepare for a future in which he might not exist.
For the time being, he drags his thoughts back to the present, frowning again as Dokja shifts and the sudden lack of metal digging into his skin reminds him of his query from earlier. ]
You never answered my question. When did you get glasses?
[ Surely they can't just be for fashion. Did something happen while he was gone...? Something beyond the usual bullshit this place likes to spring on them. ]
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He can't meet Eustace's gaze for a number of reasons, the main one being that he won't be approaching the truth of the matter, the second in fear that the thin ring of gold around his right eye might be spotted, and the third being that Dokja looks like a damn mess after crying. He takes off the glasses, folding them into his pocket, and then raises both hands to rub away at his tear-stained face. How embarrassing. ]
I just need them to read, [ he admits, voice slightly hoarse thanks to the cryfest. ] My eyesight isn't what it used to be.
[ That makes him sound so old... But his gaze moves to take in Eustace's unsanitary state, and Dokja frowns as he reaches to take him by the wrist to pull him further inside the house. ]
... You need to get cleaned up.
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His confusion only grows as he obediently follows Dokja back into the house without protest (because he does desperately need a hot shower after a long day), though there's a brief pause in the buzzing of his emotions as he takes a look around after stepping inside, noting what's changed (not much) and what hasn't (most of everything else). Content that a major disaster hasn't wrecked the house, he shifts his attention back to Dokja. ]
You can't be that much older than me. [ Hahahahahaha. ] Did you get injured in a fight while I was gone?
[ Sure, the guy reads a ton of books but he's always read a ton of books? A handful of months isn't going to make that much of a difference in ruining his eyesight, surely.
Behind them, Raisin pads his way back to his original spot, content now that the residents of the house are back where they should be. ]
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Once all three of them are back inside, Dokja closes the front door and herds Eustace into the master bathroom. He would absolutely love to move past this subject, or at the very least, delay it. There's a sneaking suspicion that Gray might already know what happened with how quietly attentive she had been after his return, and it's really only a matter of time before Eustace eventually finds out, either from her or someone else. So they don't have to talk about it right now, he reasons. ]
I think you'll be proud to know I haven't gotten into any fights since you've been gone.
[ Mostly because he just stood there and got shot.
But anyway! In an attempt to busy himself and make it look very much like he's done with this line of conversation, he starts the shower and carefully adjusts the knob to the right temperature. ]
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Dokja is at least correct about one thing; there's a small bubble of relief that rises and pops at the reassurance that, no, nothing happened as a matter of fact and everything is fine. Could it be a lie? Sure, but he'd like to think that he and Dokja have moved past the stage where they constantly hide things from each other. (Hahahaha.) It might not be enough to chase away his concern entirely, but between the fatigue from having to claw his way out of Alenroux and the overall guilt still weighing heavily on his shoulders at having up and vanished, he lets any further nagging die on his tongue.
The hiss of water hitting the tub adds another layer of distraction, and it's not until his shirt is pulled halfway off that he registers what's wrong with the situation. Namely, that they are now in the bathroom and that there's another person in there with him. ]
Why are you in here?
[ He knows how to shower by himself?? ]
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With that in mind, Dokja turns back around now that the shower is running at a nice, warm temperature. His gaze momentarily stutters at the show of skin in front of him, and then his features quickly shift into a defensive scowl. ]
Why not? I've seen you naked before.
[ Imagine admitting that he's too anxious to have Eustace leave his sight. But, recognizing that he does sound a little ridiculous in this moment, Dokja makes for the door. ]
I'll get you a towel and a change of clothes. I'll be right back, so don't lock the door. Gray's not home.
[ Goes to fetch the items! ]
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Just leave them out—
[ Too late, there Dokja goes, already out the door before he can finish his sentence. For a second he genuinely considers closing and locking the bathroom door just to be contrary, but the urge subsides as soon as it arrives, quelled by the reminded of Dokja's tear-streaked face. What right does he have to act stubborn when people have suffered because of him?
Still, he makes no move to actually hop in the shower, taking a seat on the edge of the tub after shucking off his shirt and setting it aside. He will take the clothes and towel when they come and then Dokja can go back outside and wait like a normal person. ]
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Questions and concerns that normally wouldn't pass through his thoughts at such an alarming speed or intensity come forward now, a true testament to how much anxiety still buzzes under the surface of his skin. It still feels weird having Eustace back, their reunion short and brief, and Dokja finds that he wants to prolong this time as much as he can with the help of any excuse to linger, to talk. ]
Is something wrong?
[ He walks in to set the clothes and towel on the bathroom counter, then stands there with no intent to leave. ]
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Which he can do after a much-needed shower.
Finally, after too much prolonged staring, he gets up. Carefully places one hand against Dokja's upper arm in order to maneuver him out of the bathroom. ]
I'll be out soon.
[ Go back to the couch and read or something while he showers in peace. ]
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He stands there, watching as the door closes with a click, and rather than return to the living room, he steps back until his back hits the opposite wall, then slides down against it. He takes a seat right there, knees pulled up to his chest while his arms rest on top of them, with his gaze trained on the bathroom door. Like this, he strains to hear footsteps on tile, the sound of a shower curtain being pulled open, then closed, and then the pattering of water against skin.
Signs that a person is in the bathroom. Signs that they aren't disappearing again.
When Eustace gets out of the shower, he'll find Dokja still there, seated across the door, like a person with severe seperation anxiety. ]
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But there's no attempt being made on the other side to muffle any of the noises within. Eustace has better things to do (and a lack of understanding of Dokja's current condition )than to bother moderating his actions.
True to his word, he doesn't spend too much time in the shower. Past the brief minute he allows himself to stare blankly at the tiled wall in front of him, he moves with his usual efficiency, and it's not long until he's drying himself off with the provided towel and pulling on a clean set of clothes, blessedly free of dirt and sweat. He might be back at 100%, but he's feeling much better than when he crawled out of Alenroux with Johnny on his back.
Or, was, until he opens the door and sees Dokja sitting on the floor like some sort of sad abandoned animal left out in the rain.
The sense of unease from before grows, spreading out further underneath his skin, and he doesn't waste any in striding across the bedroom, not stopping until he's looming over Dokja a foot away. His damp towel hangs limply from one hand, forgotten in the wake of this more pressing concern. ]
Hey. [ It comes out a little more curt than he intends, worry twisting into brusqueness out of habit. ] What's going on?
[ Because there is definitely something going on here. No normal person huddles on the ground with their eyes trained on the door while their housemate showers for five minutes. ]
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... Uh?
Whatever Dokja had wanted to say fades away as Eustace strides over to him, and the question is entirely unexpected as well. Blinking a couple of times in confusion, Dokja hurries to get to his feet, not wanting to crane his neck to look up the entire time. ]
What? [ He sounds genuinely confused. ] What do you mean?
[ He straightens to a stand, though there's not really any place to go with his back to the wall and Eustace right in front of him. Like this, it might be easier to see the subtle change to one of his eyes, or the way that white scales gleam against the side of his neck, continuing on and disappearing under the collar of his shirt, or how his canines have elongated enough to the point of nearly being fangs. A lot seems to have changed in the time Eustace was gone. ]
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What the fuck is going on? Just what exactly had he missed? Were these changes that he'd always been meant to undergo? Or had this place done something to him in its usual cruel and uncaring way?
His old habit of bulldozing forward until he gets the answers he wants threatens to break past the surface, the itch to grab Dokja by the shirt collar tingling in his fingertips. Instead he curls his hands into tighter fists, subduing the urge to demand instead of understand with a careful inhale of breath. ]
Were you sitting here the entire time? Were you that worried something was going to happen?
[ It doesn't take a genius - or their aspect connection - to notice the concern that radiates off him. ]
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He doesn't respond right away, fingers reaching forward to take hold of the hem of Eustace's shirt. They absentmindedly rub at the material there, and Dokja wonders if Eustace can recognize it as being his shirt, back when he'd brought the few belongings that he could after his house had been destroyed. Dokja had kept everything, which reminds him to return the gun soon, but for now, he nods stiffly. ]
Yeah.
[ His voice is quiet as he drops his gaze to focus on where his fingers still run across the shirt's hem. He doesn't know what Eustace had been through while gone, if that time had been a blink of an eye, or if the days had been as agonizingly long as they'd been for Dokja. So much had happened, more than he wants to think back on, but significant losses have left him feeling more alone than ever. ]
Sooyoung disappeared, too. Around the same time you did.
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It's not like he can't understand. If anything, he ought to understand more than anyone what it feels like to be abruptly left behind without any warning, the sole person remaining after everyone else has vanished without a trace. The misery that threatens to pull everything under into its depths, the unreasonable fear of losing even more despite any lack of evidence pointing to the contrary.
Worry turns to guilt, and that in turn shifts to a heavy sorrow. The trials of that morning seem so distant now, his own predicament paling in the wake of the wreckage left behind.
His free hand finally loosens, fingers lifting to curl lightly over the ones tugging at his shirt hem. Not to stop the idle movements of Dokja's hands, but simply to provide another layer of reassurance. ]
I can't promise I won't disappear again. [ He doesn't have the knowledge nor the power to guarantee it, and he's never been in the habit of making promises he can't keep. ] But I won't go anywhere without telling you beforehand, while I'm here.
[ That much he can offer freely. ]
So you don't need to worry so much.
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He won't lie and say that he isn't disappointed at not hearing a promise, but he knows that's unreasonable of him. Neither of them are in control of the situation they're in, and a sharp pang shoots through his heart at that reminder.
If only he could do something. A dark, possessive thought creeps along the corners of his mind, but Dokja's quick to recognize it as not belonging to him, and he smothers it before it manifests to the surface. He... has to be careful now. Even more than before.
With a shaking exhale, he nods once more. ]
Okay, [ he says softly, not sounding entirely convinced. ] I'll try, but... it might take a couple of days.
[ Dokja finally glances back up to meet Eustace's gaze before quickly looking away. He's not used to admitting things like this. He's not sure why it puts an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, or why he's suddenly so aware of their proximity to each other. ]
I won't follow you everywhere, but while you're home, I'd just... want to be around.
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He doesn't waste any time in replying, nodding his head once in agreement. ]
Sure.
[ An easy enough request to agree to, especially when the benefits of acquiesing far outweigh the costs. They've grown used to each other enough in the past year that the additional company no longer bothers him, and he has to admit that it'll be nice to keep an eye on Dokja too while he can. ]
Do I need to move my bed in here so you can be nearby even while I'm asleep?
[ It's a joke mostly (and also kind of creepy) but if it'll go a ways in easing some of that overwhelming anxiety, he'll go and move that bed right now. It's a small price to pay, after all. ]
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What for? We've both fit on this bed before.
[ He doesn't think about his words as he says them, only a moment's pause to show that he's caught what he'd said a little too late. But rather than awkwardly dwell on it, Dokja just barges on ahead.
Strangely, he finds that he doesn't have the energy to care about how it sounds. ]
Are you tired? Did you want to rest for a bit? I can read next to you while you do.
[ No promises not to watch Eustace while he sleeps, though. You know, just to make sure he's actually there and breathing. Not for any other creepy reasons! ]
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That's fine, Eustace will pause long enough for the both of them, head tilting a centimeter to the left as he processes all of those words in succession. Dokja really doesn't see what's wrong with two grown men sharing the same bed for several days in a row, does he? The boundaries between them are quickly growing blurred, more lines in the sand erased the longer they spend in each other's company. It makes him nervous, for reasons he can't quite (or rather, doesn't fully want to) articulate.
Well. Dokja isn't wrong. They have both fit on the bed together before. And it would be easier than dragging a whole-ass bed back and forth over the span of the next week. He stamps down on his unease and lets the suggestion slide, his silence on the subject a tacit acceptance of the suggestion. ]
I'm fine. [ Sure, he's tired, but it's not anything that needs to be addressed immediately. A couple nights of good sleep should do the trick. ] What about you? You look like you haven't slept in days.
[ Sorry, but Dokja does not look great. ]
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He seriously doesn't look at all bothered by his own suggestion of sharing the bed, and why should he? He's utilizing the tried-and-true method of not thinking about the things he says, and just choosing to say them regardless of potential outcomes. He trusts Eustace to not think too deeply about it either, because that's the kind of people they are.
But with the attention now rounding on him, he looks a bit uncomfortable, especially when he's still trapped between Eustace and the wall like this. Dokja glances away, an uncertain smile in place as he moves to slide to the side to create more distance between them. ]
Oh, you know me. Not much of a sleeper.
[ That much has always been true. It's just that these days, he can't stand to close his eyes and sink into the darkness. It feels like something's waiting for him there, which sounds childishly ridiculous, but it's a newfound fear that's manifested itself with his growing Discord. ]
i take it back, i'm making my own dreams come true
Regardless, that's the shittiest nonexcuse he's ever heard in his life and there's an unreal amount of judgment in his eyes as he stares down at Dokja trying to weasel his way out. Mercifcully (for Dokja), Eustace still thinks the restlessness is tied to plain old anxiety and nothing more sinister. That, and they're both out of sorts right now. Any interrogations can be saved for later days, after things have smoothed out.
The good news is that he doesn't ask any further questions. The bad news is that he falls on old habits, the hand with the towel coming up to rest against the wall and block any attempt at a covert exit. Don't go anywhere, buddy. ]
Take a nap. [ That's a demand, by the way, not a suggestion. ] Before you fall over and crack your head open on a side table.
[ A man can only survive on sheer determination and coffee for so long. ]
:3 kabeustace...
Blinking away the absurdity of this situation, Dokja forces himself to meet Eustace's gaze with an incredulous look of his own. How is he supposed to sleep, become totally unconscious, when he's the one trying to obsessively keep an eye on Eustace who has just returned? He can't do both things at once. ]
I'm not tired.
[ Which is extremely hard to believe given how exhausted he looks, but he stubbornly sets his jaw in the usual way that makes it obvious that he won't be budged from this in the slightest. Bet Eustace missed this. ]
You take a nap. Or at least lie down. What even happened to you in the time you were gone?
yeah it's dokja's turn next....kabedokja
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thanks for catering to my needs
my screaming is still heard in the distance
like yaywon screaming for kisumi