( He'd melt into Ginger's arms if he could, but he settles for letting slip his own weight and resting it all on Ginger; all for him to hold, or abandon; all for Ginger to take in.
More of the same feeling laps against his heart with every murmur of feeling, as if an underline to the way Ginger holds him and soothes him in his arms, with his lips. Ginger is so sweet, and warm, and lovely, and Mika feels - so stupid, always coming up short; he wants to serve and service, but he can't help anyone; he needs help, instead.
He's guilty. He might always feel that way. But Ginger's murmurs calm him kindly, ease him into something a little more certain. He's so greedy, he wants more than five minutes at a time; he's so scared, he can't see past five minutes without growing afraid. But he wants these things, too - these same things as Ginger; he wants them to be as they are, together; he wants Ginger to be as he is, however it is Mika's helping him do that.
He can come to allow himself space to exist, if something like him can do this one good thing for this person who's so, so important.
He swallows, wet and warm-headed and still not fully steady, his fingers curled loosely into Ginger's shirt. He brushes their lips against each other, a little like he'd first done before Ginger showed him they could kiss. Even this much distance - between their skin and their bones and their bodies - feels like too much. He wishes there were even less. )
... I do, too. ( But— ) I don't think... I can still be Mika without you, anymore.
( And to Mika, this feels honest. He had awoken to life this third time with resignation to decay, an empty existence without Yuu-chan, but Ginger - without Ginger - no,
he should say these things out loud, he thinks.
Even if it's scary to think that - maybe - Ginger wouldn't like - rightfully wouldn't like - if Mika hung up his existence off him; asked Ginger to bear his weight. Even if it's scary to think that maybe it's just him, who needs Ginger so much. But he should say them, because Ginger asked to hear. Because - how else will Ginger know? )
... I thought my heart - would just rot, but you... with you, I feel like I'm alive again. I feel like I'm remembering what it's like. I...
( Maybe it's more than just Ginger that's gone into this; it's the magic; it's the spirits; it's the people he's met, befriended, argued— but Ginger is the pillar that holds this weight. His weight, if he would have it.
He hesitates there, unsure of his words; unsure of how to enclose how he feels in such fickle, little sounds; how to get it delivered. He hesitates there, and then - with care, he presses his own kiss to Ginger's lips, long and lingering. )
... I want to be your Mika. Your Mikaela.
( Ginger's the only one who's called him Mikaela, where he hasn't really minded. It's a terrible name that's haunted him since it slipped from the mouth of his mother in worship, that Ferid teased him with, that Guren and the vampires plotted. But maybe in the truest way he knows how, he means - you make me feel safe. And when he says that - he means I love you.
And he should say here: and you can just be Ginger, not even mine, if that's what you ever want. But he can't bring himself to say it, this time. Not when the tears aren't fully gone; not when he might give himself away.
So he just: )
... And if we only had five minutes, I... I'd spend them all thankful— that you talked to me that day.
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More of the same feeling laps against his heart with every murmur of feeling, as if an underline to the way Ginger holds him and soothes him in his arms, with his lips. Ginger is so sweet, and warm, and lovely, and Mika feels - so stupid, always coming up short; he wants to serve and service, but he can't help anyone; he needs help, instead.
He's guilty. He might always feel that way. But Ginger's murmurs calm him kindly, ease him into something a little more certain. He's so greedy, he wants more than five minutes at a time; he's so scared, he can't see past five minutes without growing afraid. But he wants these things, too - these same things as Ginger; he wants them to be as they are, together; he wants Ginger to be as he is, however it is Mika's helping him do that.
He can come to allow himself space to exist, if something like him can do this one good thing for this person who's so, so important.
He swallows, wet and warm-headed and still not fully steady, his fingers curled loosely into Ginger's shirt. He brushes their lips against each other, a little like he'd first done before Ginger showed him they could kiss. Even this much distance - between their skin and their bones and their bodies - feels like too much. He wishes there were even less. )
... I do, too. ( But— ) I don't think... I can still be Mika without you, anymore.
( And to Mika, this feels honest. He had awoken to life this third time with resignation to decay, an empty existence without Yuu-chan, but Ginger - without Ginger - no,
he should say these things out loud, he thinks.
Even if it's scary to think that - maybe - Ginger wouldn't like - rightfully wouldn't like - if Mika hung up his existence off him; asked Ginger to bear his weight. Even if it's scary to think that maybe it's just him, who needs Ginger so much. But he should say them, because Ginger asked to hear. Because - how else will Ginger know? )
... I thought my heart - would just rot, but you... with you, I feel like I'm alive again. I feel like I'm remembering what it's like. I...
( Maybe it's more than just Ginger that's gone into this; it's the magic; it's the spirits; it's the people he's met, befriended, argued— but Ginger is the pillar that holds this weight. His weight, if he would have it.
He hesitates there, unsure of his words; unsure of how to enclose how he feels in such fickle, little sounds; how to get it delivered. He hesitates there, and then - with care, he presses his own kiss to Ginger's lips, long and lingering. )
... I want to be your Mika. Your Mikaela.
( Ginger's the only one who's called him Mikaela, where he hasn't really minded. It's a terrible name that's haunted him since it slipped from the mouth of his mother in worship, that Ferid teased him with, that Guren and the vampires plotted. But maybe in the truest way he knows how, he means - you make me feel safe. And when he says that - he means I love you.
And he should say here: and you can just be Ginger, not even mine, if that's what you ever want. But he can't bring himself to say it, this time. Not when the tears aren't fully gone; not when he might give himself away.
So he just: )
... And if we only had five minutes, I... I'd spend them all thankful— that you talked to me that day.