[He still refuses to remove his hands. They're his only shield in his vulnerable state. Were they being watched? He's sure any onlooker would find him miserably pathetic, right now.
His breath is unsteady. A couple of tears slip out around his fingers.]
... it was all true, you know. Everything I said, I meant it.
[Those charged words. He does enjoy being a villain. He doesn't regret crushing his competition.
And nothing would get in the way of his path for success. Just as he would crush his competition, he would also slow down or stop for no one. Not even his boyfriend.]
[Cater takes a slow breath, feeling his own nerves start to escalate. He's terrified of saying the wrong thing, of accidentally expressing himself in a way that hurts Vil further--but he can't do what he did last night. He can't try and say what he thinks Vil wants to hear. He can only say his own truth.]
And I can't tell you how I'm going to feel in the future. I don't really know what I'm capable of, or where my boundaries are. But I know that I want to try, if you're willing to let me.
[Ah, there it is... the honest truth. And as much as Vil hates the idea of hurting Cater again...
He can't stifle his ambitions or disrespect his autonomy.
He swallows thickly, brows pinched together. Finally, his hands fall away. Reddened eyes, a runny nose and ruined make-up that traced the path of his tears are revealed.
An unseemly sight— rather fitting for the ugliness within, he supposes.
When their eyes meet, Vil looks far more tired than he ever has around anyone else, before.]
[The tension lingers, but it's definitely a good first step. Cater manages a relieved smile as Vil finally drops his hands.]
There you are.
[He can't help it--he reaches up to cup Vil's face, brushing away those tears if he'll let him. After all the emotions they've clearly both been suffering through, he can feel his own face staring to redden as well. In this moment, all that Cater can think is:]
[With that movement and statement, Vil lets out a heavy sigh, tension practically melting away. As if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
A hand comes up to run through his hair, and he turns his head, pressing a kiss to Cater's cheek.]
As long as you understand.
[A couple more moments, and then he pulls back, hand coming up to cup Cater's cheek. There's still some tiredness in his gaze, but mostly, a loving warmth for Cater.]
Would you care to help me touch up my make-up? I only need it to be passable enough to get me to my room where I can properly redo it.
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His breath is unsteady. A couple of tears slip out around his fingers.]
... it was all true, you know. Everything I said, I meant it.
[Those charged words. He does enjoy being a villain. He doesn't regret crushing his competition.
And nothing would get in the way of his path for success. Just as he would crush his competition, he would also slow down or stop for no one. Not even his boyfriend.]
Can you really handle that?
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[Cater takes a slow breath, feeling his own nerves start to escalate. He's terrified of saying the wrong thing, of accidentally expressing himself in a way that hurts Vil further--but he can't do what he did last night. He can't try and say what he thinks Vil wants to hear. He can only say his own truth.]
And I can't tell you how I'm going to feel in the future. I don't really know what I'm capable of, or where my boundaries are. But I know that I want to try, if you're willing to let me.
no subject
He can't stifle his ambitions or disrespect his autonomy.
He swallows thickly, brows pinched together. Finally, his hands fall away. Reddened eyes, a runny nose and ruined make-up that traced the path of his tears are revealed.
An unseemly sight— rather fitting for the ugliness within, he supposes.
When their eyes meet, Vil looks far more tired than he ever has around anyone else, before.]
...alright.
no subject
There you are.
[He can't help it--he reaches up to cup Vil's face, brushing away those tears if he'll let him. After all the emotions they've clearly both been suffering through, he can feel his own face staring to redden as well. In this moment, all that Cater can think is:]
I'm so happy to see you.
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And he moves forward, wrapping his arms around Cater.
After a moment, an exhausted chuckle escapes.]
I suppose if anyone can withstand everything I am, it's you.
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You really threw me off guard last night, you know? I kept replaying it over in my head...I misunderstood things. I'm sorry.
[Who is he to judge if Vil leaves a trail of ruined rivals in his pathway to success? Cater wouldn't ever call himself a beacon of morality.]
I don't want to change you, or hold you back. I want to stand by you while you realize your ambitions--no matter what it takes.
no subject
A hand comes up to run through his hair, and he turns his head, pressing a kiss to Cater's cheek.]
As long as you understand.
[A couple more moments, and then he pulls back, hand coming up to cup Cater's cheek. There's still some tiredness in his gaze, but mostly, a loving warmth for Cater.]
Would you care to help me touch up my make-up? I only need it to be passable enough to get me to my room where I can properly redo it.