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[sub][url=https://youtu.be/Xw-nyj_MUHM][color=df00d2]M O O D[/color][/url][/sub]
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Tears glinted in the half light, fresh and bright and rubbed away before Skav could even react to them. Questions spurred, queued up, and died on anxious lips. Being so close to someone to see their tears, and hear the shakiness of their voice was affecting Skav oddly. Something like pity that wasn't quite pity kept gnawing at their heart. Sorrow? Pain? A need to touch Blue’s hair again? The name of the emotion was lost to inexperience and alcohol. Skav quietly sank into themself and waited, waited and listened to Blue’s somewhat-known truth as if it held all the answers to the crushing weight that stuffed their lungs full. Shakily, they snatched up the bottle and drank until their throat felt raw.

[b][color=#ff00a5]“That idiot should be rotting in hell by now.”[/color][/b] Skav said in response to Blue’s retelling of his fateful encounter with the Razors. Their voice was devoid of emotion again. Their eyes were devoid of light. Their veins devoid of blood. Blue’s truths choked them just as bad as their own, leaving foul tastes in their mouth and a wish for murder on their fingertips. Skav was aware, suddenly, of the similarities between them. The faint knowledge that both of them were abused, pushed around, taken in. There was something oddly comforting about this comparison to Skav, something that made them feel as if their secrets were really, truly safe in this space.

[b][color=#ff00a5]”Blue, you–”[/color][/b] Skav slurred their words and felt much, much sicker than they should be after just a few chugs, [b][color=#ff00a5]”You don't deserve– didn't deserve– [i]any[/i] of what happened to you. Just know that.”[/color][/b] They breathed in deeply, apathy breaking to harbor a grimace, but the twisted expression turned to awe at Blue’s next question. They blinked, tried to fight away the heat in their brain, and then blinked again. [b][color=#ff00a5]”You want to touch me?”[/color][/b] Skav resisted the urge to say ‘why’ and instead quirked an eyebrow and shook their head slowly at Blue's apology.

A memory appeared then and there; a new truth to bat away the awful urge to mention Arya. [b][color=#ff00a5]”The last person to, uh, touch me without being high or drunk or mad was the head priest at my church.”[/color][/b] Something like happiness clipped through their shroud of reminiscence. It was refreshing to find a good truth. [b][color=#ff00a5]”I had went to him to confess to something, and I expected him to shun me or turn me away– to say I was too sinful to stand in that pew with him, but…”[/color][/b] 

Skav stared at their hands and frowned, which made their face seem softer, feel lighter. [b][color=#ff00a5]”He held my hands, took off my gloves, and thanked me for sharing my grievances. And his hands were soft, an-and–”[/color][/b] Skav’s eyes misted and the bottle lifted to rest by their lips, not tipping any further to drink.

[b][color=#ff00a5]”He held me like I was something worth holding. Funny, huh?”[/color][/b]

Skav had never been the empathic type. Their mother had tried to instill a sense of righteousness into them at a young age, the kind that allowed you to see the tears of others and relate to them in some way to help them with their sorrow. Arya had ruined this side of Skav– with knives and needles she poked away at the child they were and burned that bit of them to pieces. It was gone, never to have existed perhaps, but not tonight. Tonight Skav felt their heart swelled and their veins clench with relatable pity and concern. The misty eyes of Blue and the horror of remembering started a chain reaction of chemicals within Skav, and suddenly, they were crying. Silently. Motionlessly.

The tears slid down their cheeks and strained their neck with water. Skav made no move to rub them away. They breathed and cried, spurred by memory and the sight of the only real person they've talked to deeply like this crying. They cried like it was as easy as breathing, though the torment in their eyes told another story.

Skav didn't like showing weakness. This was a weakness. Still, they held out their hands as if expecting Blue to still take them. [b][color=#ff00a5]”You– you can touch me.”[/color][/b] A pause, and then they forced a straight, watery face to say, [b][color=#ff00a5]”And it's your turn.”[/color][/b]