[ "Start to" believe? From Ganymede, who had said those things with such a fierce, vibrant determination? It's hard to grasp, but at the same time — thinking of the emptiness of that memory, the weight of Ganymede writing "four years" — perhaps he can begin to see the edge of desperation in that forward momentum. The need to move, if only because the place you were was so unbearable.
His thumb slides lightly over the back of Ganymede's hand at the thought, tracing over his knuckles. Even desperation holds a spark of hope.
Hope has a way of forsaking those who give it a home... ]
I pray that you can.
[ I pray that it doesn't betray you, he thinks but doesn't say.
Michel almost startles when Ganymede leans against him. It's a strange feeling: not comfortable, but not unwelcome. Warm. When had he become tall enough to be this kind of support for someone else? He feels his worldview tilting, realigning, coming that slightest bit more into accord with what he felt in his heart should have always been true. In a way... it's the deepest refutation possible of everything in that memory.
Careful, cautious, awkward, he winds his arm around Ganymede to just hold him there. ]
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His thumb slides lightly over the back of Ganymede's hand at the thought, tracing over his knuckles. Even desperation holds a spark of hope.
Hope has a way of forsaking those who give it a home... ]
I pray that you can.
[ I pray that it doesn't betray you, he thinks but doesn't say.
Michel almost startles when Ganymede leans against him. It's a strange feeling: not comfortable, but not unwelcome. Warm. When had he become tall enough to be this kind of support for someone else? He feels his worldview tilting, realigning, coming that slightest bit more into accord with what he felt in his heart should have always been true. In a way... it's the deepest refutation possible of everything in that memory.
Careful, cautious, awkward, he winds his arm around Ganymede to just hold him there. ]