𝕊𝕆𝕃𝕀𝕍𝔸𝔾𝔸ℕ𝕋║[ᴅ. ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ]

ᴠᴇʟʟɪᴄʜᴏʀ

"'You are beautiful, but you are empty,' He went on. 'One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you – the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone, she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses; because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to when she grumbled or boasted, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.'"

Vin's tired voice slurred as he read his favorite book. He knew most of the words by heart, but there was something nice about feeling the soft scratch of wood pulp beneath his fingertips rather than a cold trigger or a sharp knife. Damian, resting his head on Vin's unimpeded shoulder, blinked slowly as fatigue crept closer and closer upon him.

They lay together on Vin's medium size bed that hardly fit the two of them. Their muscles had melted onto the mattress as soon as their bodies had met the malleable surface. It had taken a lot of willpower on Damian's part to get the knitted comforter over them and much suffering on Vin's sore arms to push the pillows under their heads.

"'It seemed to me that I was carrying a very fragile treasure. It seemed to me, even, that there was nothing more fragile on all the Earth. In the moonlight, I looked at his pale forehead, his closed eyes, his locks of hair that trembled in the wind, and I said to myself: "What I see here is nothing but a shell. What is most important is invisible...' I felt him to be more fragile still. I felt the need of protecting him as if he himself were a flame that might be extinguished by a little puff of a wind...'"

Vin trailed off as a yawn fought its way out of his mouth. The book fell sluggishly against his chest as his wrists gave in to the tiredness, which was gradually taking control of his remaining senses.

Damian, contracting the yawning outbreak, pulled in a heavy inhale. "Vincent?" His sleepy voice murmured.

"Mm'yeah?"

"May I... put my arm around you?"

The last vestiges of Vin's energy poured into the smile that slid onto his lips. "Only if I can hold you, too, mon vert chéri."

Damian mumbled a halfhearted 'of course, do not be ridiculous' before pushing Le Petite Prince from Vin's chest and laying his head there as a replacement. Vin's heart gave a small jump as a tan bicep curled over his waist, gripping him tightly.

Vin laughed quietly, winding a reciprocating arm around Damian and tugging him forward. "Never thought anyone would want to keep me so close." Besides the cicadas buzzing merrily in the night outside, his deliriously happy whisper was the only thing to break the silence of the dark room.

"I only count myself so fortunate that no one else has." Damian's throat rumbled against Vin's chest as he spoke.

Vin let out another yawn, "You sweet talker..." He muttered. His words became more inarticulate the longer he avoided going to the Sandman's realm. The mortification that he was nestling up with Damian was all but wasted away by the exhaustion that didn't allow much leeway for anything other than basic communication.

Damian curled his fingers around Vin's shirt. "Sleep, Beloved." He commanded the other boy.

Vin's eyelids fluttered as he made a soft noise of agreement. The tenderness was unusual but sounded melodic when it came from Damian's hoarse and tired voice.

They pulled away from their loving embrace, eyes slowly opening to meet dilated eyes. Damian could feel Vincent's rabbiting pulse as his palm rested on his neck. Vincent rubbed his hand along Damian's back, trying to soothe the fast inhales of breath the black-haired boy was taking in. Damian tried to speak and say something, but all that came out was, "Wicked."