Idia nods, huddling up so he can bury his face against Cater’s neck. Bed, cuddles, Cater. Things are already starting to feel much better. Anything beyond them and this bed would be tomorrow’s problem. Even the nightmare seems like a distant, retreating storm. It’s probably the extraordinary fatigue and stress crash, but he asks one soft question against his better judgment. He has to have hope.
"Always," he murmurs back, finding Idia's pinky with one of his own and curling them around each other. "There's nowhere else I ever want to be."
If Cater could get away with not sleeping, he'd just gaze into Idia's eyes for hours and hours. As the more intense of his emotions continue fading, however, the more physically exhausted he feels. It's betraying the both of them, forcing them to separate unconsciously before they're ready to.
All he can do is keep his word. In the morning, he'll be there. Come hell or high water, come Riddle Rosenhearts or Dire Crowley, Jupiter or Shroud.
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“Always…?”
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If Cater could get away with not sleeping, he'd just gaze into Idia's eyes for hours and hours. As the more intense of his emotions continue fading, however, the more physically exhausted he feels. It's betraying the both of them, forcing them to separate unconsciously before they're ready to.
All he can do is keep his word. In the morning, he'll be there. Come hell or high water, come Riddle Rosenhearts or Dire Crowley, Jupiter or Shroud.