Closed Settling Into an Unsettled Life

Lucas sighed, unthinkingly leaning in a little towards Einar. "My heart," He countered. "They told me to open up, find someone, something, but I can't." He admitted, voice dull. "I tried that." He brought his free hand up, playing with the hair on the back of his neck, shutting his eyes and enjoying the comfort it brought him. "But I lost my heart a long time ago. I don't have anything left to give. I can't give what I don't have."
 
Einar frowned as Lucas spoke, but kept a hold of him. He knew that this, this last part was because of him. Because of him coming and then leaving to abruptly. Because he hadn't reached out and because he hadn't come back earlier. But he couldn't explain how it was better that he hadn't. He couldn't explain that he had needed the distance to deal with his grief before it consumed him. "Think about going back, please?" he asked, knowing it was pretty unreasonable to him to really ask this given that he was partly the reason for the problem.
 
Lucas was just holding still, knowing that if he tried to move Einar would stop him again. "I'll think about it," He offered, knowing he'd never really been able to say no to Einar, but also knowing he would still probably not go back. Talking about it wasn't going to put him back together. He just had to keep moving forward- it was all that he could do. He looked to Einar. "Did you still want to draw?" He asked softly.
 
Things felt unfinished and unsaid as Lucas agreed to think about it. Einar wanted to say that it wasn't enough that thinking about it wasn't good enough, but he couldn't exactly say that. Instead he just had to take a breath, and nodded. "Please," he said. He summoned all of his art supplies, and then glanced about. "Do you want to just sit and read and I'll draw you as you do that?" he asked, wanting to make it comfortable for Lucas.
 
Lucas nodded and summoned over a random book from the bookshelf- a collection of volumes he'd been meaning to read but hadn't gotten to. He settled on the couch, pulling a blanket onto his lap and trying to focus on the story- even if he spaced out every few pages and had to shake himself off so he could get back into it all over again.
 

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