[ And then, then it's not awful or terrible at all. Instead, Tighnari asks him to— to cut her hair, and bind her—
Oh.
Oh, this is big. Tighnari—
This is huge, isn't it?
But Tighnari, she— he, Kaveh reminds himself sternly, and promises in the very same thought to never need a reminder again— he needs it not to be this big thing. Right? What he needs right now is normality. In a world where this kind of admission is going to cause people to look at him differently to how they did before, to treat it as a curious or strange fact when it's frankly none of their business, Tighnari needs someone on his side who sees him for who he is, who sees it as a given, who brings normality to a world that is very much not.
(Or so Kaveh thinks, anyway. He's never really dealt with anything like this before.)
He takes a quiet breath, offers a gentle, understanding smile. ]
Okay, [ he says. For a moment he thinks about stopping everything and hugging the breath out of the other, but somehow he thinks it might be better to start with taking care of the things that are making his friend feel so out of sorts. Surely, he thinks, a hug will feel nicer for Tighnari if he can feel the flat of his chest pressed against Kaveh's, if the blonde's fingers can caress comfortingly through boyishly short strands of hair. And so instead of pulling him into a hug, Kaveh moves to grab the scissors, the roll of bandages from where they're lying on the bed. ]
Take your shirt off, okay? And— [ Kaveh pauses, considering the mirror for a moment or two.
If it were him, he doesn't think he'd be able to pull his eyes away even if he wanted to. And so, wordlessly, he pulls off the lightweight red overcoat he's wearing— leaving him clad in a loose white shirt and grey slacks— and drapes it over the mirror, adjusting it so that Tighnari can't look at himself even if he wants to. ]
Okay, that's better. Shirt off, Tighnari, and keep your eyes on me, okay. No looking down at yourself until I'm done.
no subject
Oh.
Oh, this is big. Tighnari—
This is huge, isn't it?
But Tighnari, she— he, Kaveh reminds himself sternly, and promises in the very same thought to never need a reminder again— he needs it not to be this big thing. Right? What he needs right now is normality. In a world where this kind of admission is going to cause people to look at him differently to how they did before, to treat it as a curious or strange fact when it's frankly none of their business, Tighnari needs someone on his side who sees him for who he is, who sees it as a given, who brings normality to a world that is very much not.
(Or so Kaveh thinks, anyway. He's never really dealt with anything like this before.)
He takes a quiet breath, offers a gentle, understanding smile. ]
Okay, [ he says. For a moment he thinks about stopping everything and hugging the breath out of the other, but somehow he thinks it might be better to start with taking care of the things that are making his friend feel so out of sorts. Surely, he thinks, a hug will feel nicer for Tighnari if he can feel the flat of his chest pressed against Kaveh's, if the blonde's fingers can caress comfortingly through boyishly short strands of hair. And so instead of pulling him into a hug, Kaveh moves to grab the scissors, the roll of bandages from where they're lying on the bed. ]
Take your shirt off, okay? And— [ Kaveh pauses, considering the mirror for a moment or two.
If it were him, he doesn't think he'd be able to pull his eyes away even if he wanted to. And so, wordlessly, he pulls off the lightweight red overcoat he's wearing— leaving him clad in a loose white shirt and grey slacks— and drapes it over the mirror, adjusting it so that Tighnari can't look at himself even if he wants to. ]
Okay, that's better. Shirt off, Tighnari, and keep your eyes on me, okay. No looking down at yourself until I'm done.