Lust nodded. That was it exactly, there was no controlling the thoughts at night. During the day they'd sometimes come upon her, but they were easy to push away and ignore. At night in bed, it was as though her own mind turned against her no matter how she tried to structure her thoughts.
When he reached for her hand, Lust's fingers turned to hold onto his. Physical comfort was a double edged sword, she craved it and wanted it desperately but still shied away from it in so many cases. It was worse with Scar, who's comfort she wanted most but who was most cautious of even mild physical contact.
"I try and think of other things, but it doesn't matter. I can only hold them for a few moments."
This was something he was entirely unfamiliar with- trying to be the calming presence, trying to think of the right thing to say that might make things seem less awful. But he knew, from being on the other end of this for so long, that almost nothing ever truly helped. Nothing he was fully comfortable doing, anyway. He didn't have any experience to draw from.
He had to stop being so worried. Hadn't they just been talking about this?
"It only helps until I lie back down." And then the unpleasant thoughts came creeping back. "I know it's normal, in a fashion, and apparently winter brings it on worse, but that doesn't make it any better."
Lust grasped his hand and turned toward him, head lowered and shaking slightly as she tried to shake off the lingering fears and sorrows. She didn't reach for him, she only shifted her body so she was faced towards him and angled into the broad shield of his chest.
If Scar's tongue hadn't felt stuck in his throat, maybe he would have said something. When she turned, it dawned on him what he should do, but he still hesitated. She would have reached for him if she wanted to, right?
Although, Scar couldn't even begin to count the times he had so desperately wanted something and not taken it, especially when it involved Lust. Was she the same way?
Holding his breath without realizing, Scar slowly slipped his arms around her shoulders to hold her in a tentative embrace. He could pull away, if it became evident that he had done the wrong thing.
Once Scar initiated the contact, Lust let herself sink into it. And him. She relaxed against his chest and leaned her head against him, closing her eyes for the moment. There was always something so grounding and reassuring in being held, in any way, by another person. And for Scar to hold her...
He was big and solid and warm and safe. So many of her fears centered around him anyway - something happening to him, losing him, making a mess of this growing thing between them. But right here and now she was sad and he'd come to her and now he was holding her and it did a great deal to chase those fears away.
Scar relaxed as soon as Lust did. He couldn't think of an angle to guide his actions from. This wasn't a time for What would Alphonse do? or What would his younger self do? This was unique to him and Lust. There wasn't some 'safe' way out.
He wanted to promise that it would be okay, that he would be here. But he couldn't. He honestly couldn't.
Which was the source of all of this upset in the first place.
Scar had thought about ending it. On more than one occasion during the past month, he had nearly called her, nearly asked her to meet him someplace so they could talk, so he could tell her that this wasn't good for her, that they shouldn't attach to each other or rely on each other. He wasn't fit to be anyone's partner like this.
But neither was she, really. They had to learn. No matter how many times Scar weighed the options in his mind, cutting her off or letting this grow, it was always the former that felt it would only be steeped in regret, especially when one of them was gone. The fear kept resurfacing. What if one of them were gone tomorrow? The thought alone was enough for him to tighten his hold on her, protective and clinging. His own defenses were what kept this back. The only thing, really. But there was no need for them with her. Once it was done, it was done. There would be nothing they could do.
Without thinking much about it, Lust's arms went around Scar, her hands pressing against his shoulder blades and gripping him tightly. She was so aware of the warmth of him and scent of him, real and alive and there. It was a comfort and reassurance she didn't realize she'd needed this badly.
It was terrifying, really, to be at the emotional mercy of another person. There was nothing either of them could do about it. Somehow, somewhere along the line, Scar had become tangled and twined intimately and inseparably with Lust's own hopes and wants and dreads. It had happened even before they came to this place. She thought of a possible happy future and life, and Scar is there. She knows that's not quite right, not how humans normally love, so desperately and deeply with so little to go on, but...
They were different, she and Scar. The past that stretched out behind them, the ghosts that still sometimes lingered between them, their own brokenness. They were broken in different ways, and not irreparable, but they were very broken people. That was all part of it, though. There was no one else who could possibly put them back together but one another. They'd always been linked and connected, in some way. It was stupid and dangerous to need him so badly, but she did.
Waking up human in this world hadn't returned to her anything she'd lost. Hearing his voice had.
He hadn't realized how much more he could still relax, but he did when Lust returned the embrace. Scar's eyes fell closed, his constant alertness that came from being in this damn house easing as she clung to him. None of this was familiar, but it was so... peaceful. It was quiet and comforting and warm and now Scar felt as if dragging away would take some sort of insurmountable effort. Even breathing came with slight difficulty. This wasn't frightening.
What was frightening was how okay he was with it. How he was so willing to let go and be held by her, and to hold her back.
Scar didn't know how long he had stood in silence, but the question was only a faint one in the back of his foggy head. He wasn't going to move until it seemed that she wanted him to.
Time did that little trick where it seemed to step aside and cease existing. Lust just stood there, holding and being held, taking in everything she could from Scar. She felt his heart against her cheek and listened to the steady rhythm of it.
It wasn't until the kettle on the stove began to whistle that Lust drew away, and even then with reluctance. But the light, shrill sound startled her out of her comfortable reverie and she drew her head back quickly. She was only aware of the faint damp on her cheeks then - stupid biology. She wasn't even sad anymore. Just...full of emotions. Somehow it left her with a small smile and faint tear tracks together.
But as she drew away, her hands briefly touched the sides of Scar's face, cupping it gently for less than a moment before dropping and turning to lift the kettle from the heat.
"I'm glad you're here tonight."
It didn't say even a fraction of what she wanted to, what she felt inside of her, but she couldn't seem to manage anything else.
Scar felt a shot of panic when he caught sight of the damp steaks down Lust's face. He knew that sometimes it could take next to nothing to bring on a strong reaction, but he couldn't help the damn need to help, even if there wasn't really anything to be helped.
"Are you all right?" Scar stayed close, watching her. He could barely ever tell what brought on his own irrational bouts of emotion. He had no hope of reading hers.
"I'm fine, really, I am." She wiped at her eyes and shook her head. "It just happens sometimes. It's not even necessarily when I'm upset - it happens when I'm very happy, or someone does something particularly kind, or...any strong feelings, I suppose. It's the most frustrating thing..."
With the tea poured and set to steep, Lust stepped back into the circle of Scar's personal space, her head leaning against his chest again.
"It's been happening a great deal at acts of kindness of late."
Still tentative, Scar lifted his hands to lightly stroke Lust's hair. He had never done this, but it was intuitive, more or less. And he wanted to. He couldn't explain it, but he had the string urge just to touch her.
He only nodded at her explanation, his eyes actually softening for a moment. She explained things from such an odd perspective, like she'd never known that strong emotions caused certain reactions. It wasn't exactly the answer Scar had been looking for, but he would take it.
"I'm still just getting used to this. Comfort like this. I think the only person that's ever held me to make me feel better is Envy, and that was because I had a nightmare." And it had happened then, too, only not nearly as obviously and quickly. And it had been just recently. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised what simple affection from Scar could do to her. They'd never held each other. The one time she'd put her arms around him could hardly be termed an embrace of any sort.
"I was so miserable and then I felt so much better, and my eyes leaked. I really am alright."
A small, single note laugh escaped Lust at that. She looked up, a bit startled by the expression on his face. It wasn't one she could remember seeing before.
"That's all it is." She didn't sob, she didn't shake, she didn't make those great disgusting wet noises that came with proper crying or turn red. "Just a bit of moisture from the eyes, nothing more. I'd stop it if I could."
Though it had stopped on its own - there was rarely very much.
"The point is that you can't," he grumbled, daring to look down and meet her eyes when she moved. Scar slipped his fingers under her bangs to push them back from her eyes. It suddenly hit him, how closely they were standing. All of the implications that came with that.
He was even more surprised to find that he didn't really mind.
It was strange, in a way. This sort of closeness and contact had always held certain associations for Lust, but none of that is there right now. The way they were standing together, the way Scar's fingers brushed her hair, it was all very intimate but she found no desire for anything more than this. Not an active one. Strange, to be able to discern between the small differences in wants and needs. Like strings on a harpsichord, each one separate but making a whole, sometimes thrumming altogether and sometimes only one or two strings plucked.
That was how it was now. Active romantic feelings without sexual desire, though both always existed quietly in the underparts of her mind. It was surprisingly nice. And for her, this was more meaningful and important and worthy of exploration. She'd rather be held and chastely touched in caring and compassion than anything else.
"I still wish I wouldn't. It doesn't matter, they're all gone now."
"It just means that there's something there," he murmured, assuming she understood what he meant. All of that nonsense about humanity and emotions and what they had been told...
Scar's hands came to cup her cheeks, though it was really more like cradling her whole head, given their relative sizes.
Her hands ended up coming to rest on his chest, palms flat. She knew what he meant, and was grateful he'd said it. Lust had a number of doubts and questions regarding who she was, but the what no longer plagued her. Whatever biology she may have possessed at any given time, she was and had always been just a woman.
It didn't matter what that vile woman had tried to sell her as truth. Perhaps her feelings were stronger and harder to ignore or push away now, but they'd always existed. She'd feared that he'd never be able to see that, to look past the strange circumstances of her existence and just accept her as a woman.
Scar's eyes softened when she, yet again, found a way to explain things in a way that wasn't entirely normal but made sense in her odd little way. He was silent for another moment, feeling as though he had filled his limit for conversation like this for the night.
"It's probably ready. We can sit at the table or in the living room. I sometimes watch the late night movies, when I can't sleep." They tended to be inoffensive and end on a positive note, and pleasant enough to stare at when her mind refused to settle into tiredness.
"Living room." Scar hadn't come inside just to sit on a kitchen chair when there was a couch one room over, and she had mentioned television. so maybe she wanted to watch. He finally drew away to let her tend to the tea.
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When he reached for her hand, Lust's fingers turned to hold onto his. Physical comfort was a double edged sword, she craved it and wanted it desperately but still shied away from it in so many cases. It was worse with Scar, who's comfort she wanted most but who was most cautious of even mild physical contact.
"I try and think of other things, but it doesn't matter. I can only hold them for a few moments."
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This was something he was entirely unfamiliar with- trying to be the calming presence, trying to think of the right thing to say that might make things seem less awful. But he knew, from being on the other end of this for so long, that almost nothing ever truly helped. Nothing he was fully comfortable doing, anyway. He didn't have any experience to draw from.
He had to stop being so worried. Hadn't they just been talking about this?
But what would Lust even want from him?
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Lust grasped his hand and turned toward him, head lowered and shaking slightly as she tried to shake off the lingering fears and sorrows. She didn't reach for him, she only shifted her body so she was faced towards him and angled into the broad shield of his chest.
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If Scar's tongue hadn't felt stuck in his throat, maybe he would have said something. When she turned, it dawned on him what he should do, but he still hesitated. She would have reached for him if she wanted to, right?
Although, Scar couldn't even begin to count the times he had so desperately wanted something and not taken it, especially when it involved Lust. Was she the same way?
Holding his breath without realizing, Scar slowly slipped his arms around her shoulders to hold her in a tentative embrace. He could pull away, if it became evident that he had done the wrong thing.
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He was big and solid and warm and safe. So many of her fears centered around him anyway - something happening to him, losing him, making a mess of this growing thing between them. But right here and now she was sad and he'd come to her and now he was holding her and it did a great deal to chase those fears away.
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He wanted to promise that it would be okay, that he would be here. But he couldn't. He honestly couldn't.
Which was the source of all of this upset in the first place.
Scar had thought about ending it. On more than one occasion during the past month, he had nearly called her, nearly asked her to meet him someplace so they could talk, so he could tell her that this wasn't good for her, that they shouldn't attach to each other or rely on each other. He wasn't fit to be anyone's partner like this.
But neither was she, really. They had to learn. No matter how many times Scar weighed the options in his mind, cutting her off or letting this grow, it was always the former that felt it would only be steeped in regret, especially when one of them was gone. The fear kept resurfacing. What if one of them were gone tomorrow? The thought alone was enough for him to tighten his hold on her, protective and clinging. His own defenses were what kept this back. The only thing, really. But there was no need for them with her. Once it was done, it was done. There would be nothing they could do.
He couldn't bring himself to waste time, anymore.
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It was terrifying, really, to be at the emotional mercy of another person. There was nothing either of them could do about it. Somehow, somewhere along the line, Scar had become tangled and twined intimately and inseparably with Lust's own hopes and wants and dreads. It had happened even before they came to this place. She thought of a possible happy future and life, and Scar is there. She knows that's not quite right, not how humans normally love, so desperately and deeply with so little to go on, but...
They were different, she and Scar. The past that stretched out behind them, the ghosts that still sometimes lingered between them, their own brokenness. They were broken in different ways, and not irreparable, but they were very broken people. That was all part of it, though. There was no one else who could possibly put them back together but one another. They'd always been linked and connected, in some way. It was stupid and dangerous to need him so badly, but she did.
Waking up human in this world hadn't returned to her anything she'd lost. Hearing his voice had.
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What was frightening was how okay he was with it. How he was so willing to let go and be held by her, and to hold her back.
Scar didn't know how long he had stood in silence, but the question was only a faint one in the back of his foggy head. He wasn't going to move until it seemed that she wanted him to.
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It wasn't until the kettle on the stove began to whistle that Lust drew away, and even then with reluctance. But the light, shrill sound startled her out of her comfortable reverie and she drew her head back quickly. She was only aware of the faint damp on her cheeks then - stupid biology. She wasn't even sad anymore. Just...full of emotions. Somehow it left her with a small smile and faint tear tracks together.
But as she drew away, her hands briefly touched the sides of Scar's face, cupping it gently for less than a moment before dropping and turning to lift the kettle from the heat.
"I'm glad you're here tonight."
It didn't say even a fraction of what she wanted to, what she felt inside of her, but she couldn't seem to manage anything else.
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"Are you all right?" Scar stayed close, watching her. He could barely ever tell what brought on his own irrational bouts of emotion. He had no hope of reading hers.
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With the tea poured and set to steep, Lust stepped back into the circle of Scar's personal space, her head leaning against his chest again.
"It's been happening a great deal at acts of kindness of late."
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He only nodded at her explanation, his eyes actually softening for a moment. She explained things from such an odd perspective, like she'd never known that strong emotions caused certain reactions. It wasn't exactly the answer Scar had been looking for, but he would take it.
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"I was so miserable and then I felt so much better, and my eyes leaked. I really am alright."
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What was it about her?
A faint smile cracked his stony features, relieved and amused all at once. It felt unfamiliar, but... natural. He couldn't stop it, really.
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"That's all it is." She didn't sob, she didn't shake, she didn't make those great disgusting wet noises that came with proper crying or turn red. "Just a bit of moisture from the eyes, nothing more. I'd stop it if I could."
Though it had stopped on its own - there was rarely very much.
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He was even more surprised to find that he didn't really mind.
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That was how it was now. Active romantic feelings without sexual desire, though both always existed quietly in the underparts of her mind. It was surprisingly nice. And for her, this was more meaningful and important and worthy of exploration. She'd rather be held and chastely touched in caring and compassion than anything else.
"I still wish I wouldn't. It doesn't matter, they're all gone now."
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Scar's hands came to cup her cheeks, though it was really more like cradling her whole head, given their relative sizes.
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Her hands ended up coming to rest on his chest, palms flat. She knew what he meant, and was grateful he'd said it. Lust had a number of doubts and questions regarding who she was, but the what no longer plagued her. Whatever biology she may have possessed at any given time, she was and had always been just a woman.
It didn't matter what that vile woman had tried to sell her as truth. Perhaps her feelings were stronger and harder to ignore or push away now, but they'd always existed. She'd feared that he'd never be able to see that, to look past the strange circumstances of her existence and just accept her as a woman.
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"How long does the tea take?" Such tact.
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