And it came to pass that in time the Great God Tholassi spake unto Sataro, the Chosen One:
“Psst!”
And it came to pass that in time the Great God Tholassi spake unto Sataro, the Chosen One:
“Psst!”
Ashka sits on his bed.
"I might not approve of you fasting either, depends on how much you fast."
"I don't —" and he swallows and tries again, "I can't —"
He sounds more than a little panicked.
Navigating a person to sit on the bed with you while you're hugging them is complicated.
Fortunately, Ashka has practice.
Ashka has a hand on the back of his head and is holding him protectively.
"See," he says. "This is the best way to have a crisis."
"When I first joined up I thought there was-- a point, you know. Kill and die for the greater glory of Tholassi. But I was always curious, and I stole a few of those books we were supposed to be burning, and. Well."
Having his hair pet is nice. Ashka still has nice hands. He's not sure if it's the alcohol or the closeness or both that's making him feel so warm.
"Yeah," he whispers, "yeah, it's not," and he leans forward and just barely kisses Ashka again.
That's — good.
When this ends he's going to feel awful about it. But right now Ashka's touch is soft and warm and good.