brilliance in earth

6-29-19

[ a very small continuation of life untouched, sun undiscovered from a different perspective ]

habit thinks that, maybe, he should be a little angrier at vinnie for ditching him like that. maybe he should reach out in a grand, biting gesture, catch him around the throat and suck the life out of him for walking out on all of their plans. like winter, he should be cold and unfair, he should cover vinnie in a terrible blanket of blood-tinted snow and make him beg for his life all over again. he should come without warning and kill what they had built, how far they had come, freeze any trust vinnie's put in him and break it with a quick strike.

the romance of the idea strikes him fast and hard and brutal. how he could picture vinnie's throat underneath his palms, his face red and sweaty and desperate as he'd claw at habit's knuckles to try and push him away and gasp air back into his struggling lungs. if he got him on the ground, would it be the same as shoving him into a wall? it occurs to him, then, that this is probably not the best thing to be thinking about while he's out in the middle of the woods, and he steels himself. habit halts his thoughts of vinnie and pushes onward yet, deeper into the trees.

when he returns, inevitably, to the cabin, not empty-handed although it does feel like it, he finds vinnie in the living room. he finds him turned to the front door from the archway, an arm slung over the back of the couch to greet him. it's not a greeting in the same way one would greet a family member or a lover, but the way you would greet a roommate, an old friend. habit knows the legs of his pants are splattered with blood and the sleeves of his jacket don't look too great either, but when vinnie gets up, he's unconcerned. he goes, instead, for habit's knuckles.

a thumb on the back of his hand and the rest of vinnie's fingers pressing ever so lightly into his palm as he pulls his hand up to examine it. his fingers are stained with the same red on everything else but vinnie's eyes take to the bruises covering his knuckles. they'd heal in a few days, of course, as does anything on habit that would take someone normal any time, but vinnie makes a soft sound of frustration and gives him a quiet stay here and retreats into the kitchen, leaving habit standing confused and amused in their walkway.

he returns with ice in a zip-lock bag and paper towels wrapped around it. he grabs the bruised hand again and places it on his knuckles, pressing down slightly. vinnie looks at habit's other hand and sighs again. it's not as bruised as the other one, of course, but that doesn't mean vinnie can't be frustrated about it.

"keep that on your hand," he mumbles, "it'll help with swelling."

"jesus, vinnie, i can take care of myself," habit rolls his eyes, but vinnie gives him a look, and he reluctantly concedes, "fine. i'll keep it on, just for you."

he pretends not to notice the way vinnie's cheeks go red.