[ Ivan has nothing in his arms. And he hates that.
It's been too long since he's been able to hold Till without feeling like his very presence was cutting into him. Keeping away is not what he wants at all, but it's necessary, is it not? He can only hurt him so much before he starts to think that it's just selfish to even try to endure. Hunting is his convenient excuse to be somewhere else, always crucial to them all surviving.
That's not what he's doing now, of course, in their room all alone. Till's suspicions are correct, though the resting is not itself restful. His now-natural glow glints off of Ivan's jet black exoskeleton, highlighting exactly where he is in the inner darkness. It reveals an enormous, tight spiral in the dead center of the carpeting, because that's the only place he has room to be in such a pose. His body is wound around and around itself, his just-barely human head and shoulders eclipsed by the endless extra legs he's using to hug himself. He's gotten so used to being near someone in his sleep, this is all he can do to stifle the awful awareness that he isn't.
The voice that slips inside his head is more soothing than any of that. Still, mixed with the sudden rush of relief, there is a sense of alarm. he's not sure that it's safe yet... for Till to approach.
Then he cracks an eye open, finding himself already looking at him. ]
No.
[ Stated firmly, Ivan immediately beginning to stir, squirm, rise from his creature-esque contortion toward the doorframe with a restless neediness he's been saving up and up and up. Whether it's going to sting when he touches him, he just can't help himself. ]
I'm not resting anymore, now that you're here. I want to do what you want to do.
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It's been too long since he's been able to hold Till without feeling like his very presence was cutting into him. Keeping away is not what he wants at all, but it's necessary, is it not? He can only hurt him so much before he starts to think that it's just selfish to even try to endure. Hunting is his convenient excuse to be somewhere else, always crucial to them all surviving.
That's not what he's doing now, of course, in their room all alone. Till's suspicions are correct, though the resting is not itself restful. His now-natural glow glints off of Ivan's jet black exoskeleton, highlighting exactly where he is in the inner darkness. It reveals an enormous, tight spiral in the dead center of the carpeting, because that's the only place he has room to be in such a pose. His body is wound around and around itself, his just-barely human head and shoulders eclipsed by the endless extra legs he's using to hug himself. He's gotten so used to being near someone in his sleep, this is all he can do to stifle the awful awareness that he isn't.
The voice that slips inside his head is more soothing than any of that. Still, mixed with the sudden rush of relief, there is a sense of alarm. he's not sure that it's safe yet... for Till to approach.
Then he cracks an eye open, finding himself already looking at him. ]
No.
[ Stated firmly, Ivan immediately beginning to stir, squirm, rise from his creature-esque contortion toward the doorframe with a restless neediness he's been saving up and up and up. Whether it's going to sting when he touches him, he just can't help himself. ]
I'm not resting anymore, now that you're here. I want to do what you want to do.