Take my heart

Chapter XXIX

They forego breakfast and have coffee and donuts for lunch. It goes against much of what Connor believes in, but he can't be bothered right now. Caesar's become a little soft around the edges, he smiles when he catches Connor staring, sits closer than usual and takes any given chance to touch him.

"We should go back," Connor suggests out of nowhere. It's risky, he knows, but the snow has long since melted, and the clear sky promises a good day to be outside.

"You think?"

Caesar doesn't argue further than that. They put on comfortable clothes and sneakers, get on Connor's car and drive to Adryan's place. It's a bit weird to go there without the intention of seeing him, but he'll most likely be out with Dawn anyway, so it doesn't matter.

The forest seems a lot less intimidating than it did ten years ago. Now that Connor's taller, the trees don't seem to loom over him with scary faces and branches for claws. The daylight and the lack of snow also do their part. It's a nice place really, when he overlooks the bad memories attached to it. He grabs Caesar's hand and pulls him into the woods.

It's about time they get over it. Despite his compliance, a slight tension settles on Caesar's shoulders as they walk further in. Connor squeezes his hand in reassurance, prompting an involuntary smile out of him, like a knee-jerk response. A lot about them works on that same principle.

Sunlight filters between the tree branches, Connor begins to name each color he sees in an attempt to keep Caesar grounded. It works. Soon he's complaining about why having so many names for shades that look the same. His annoyance pulls a laugh from Connor, which seems to take him off-guard. He trips with a rock, loses his footing and topples to the ground with a yelp.

"Fuck!"

Connor's laughter dies as his eyes widen. In a heartbeat he's crouching in front of Caesar, looking him up and down.

"Oh my god! Are you okay? What the hell, you useless excuse for a human..." Worry comes out in a string of curse words and other nonsense.

He grabs his friend by the elbows and carefully helps him up. When he rests his weight on his feet, a jolt of pain curses through him, and Connor gets the backside of it, wincing. It's his left ankle, he recognizes before Caesar even gets the chance. Just like that time with the bee sting.

"Damn it. This was a bad idea," he says, messing up his hair. "Can you walk? We gotta head back, you might need some ice, perhaps medical attention, I'll drive you to the ER for a quick check-up-"

"Jeez, shut up," Caesar cuts him off, exasperated. "I'm not bloody dying, chill. I don't wanna go yet. It's just a twisted ankle, I'll take a break and it'll be good as new in a minute."

Connor purses his lips and furrows his brow. Alright, going to the hospital might be a bit overdoing it, but still.

"There's a clearing over there, it's got nice sunlight."

Once Caesar does that crooked smile of his, there's nothing Connor can do to protest.

"Can you walk?"

"Of course-"

-not. That much is proven when he tries to take a step forward and regrets all his life choices, clinging to Connor and spewing any insult he can think of. Connor rolls his eyes and holds the dumbass upright.

"Dammit. Come on, I'll take you."

Maybe it's because he owes him. A silent understanding of that much runs between them as Caesar climbs on Connor's back, arms locked around his neck and legs pressed at his sides. He secures both hands under Caesar's knees and takes the first hesitant step. His wimpy artist ass is not made for this situation, but he manages. In fact, it might be harder to stand Caesar's warm breath next to his ear than his whole weight on his back.