[He doesn't know why those words pull at him so, but they do, and he's left speechless. Quietly, he plucks at the empty sleeve, fingers lingering and curling into the fabric. If he had stayed, would he have been able to prevent this? To fix this? Could he have snapped Hans out of it? If he weren't so obsessed on feelings similar to that towards his family could he have done something?
Would he be feeling so idiotic right now?]
Hans...
[Where does he start? What does he do? The door is shut behind him and so he moves closer again, pressing his face into Hans' chest and wrapping his arms around him, pressing palms flat to his back.
That had been concern from Hans. He'd seen it in text, and it was even more apparent in person. Normally, that was something Oren could deal with. But the worry he'd seen— the experiences he knows Hans to have with his own family.]
I'm sorry. [Why is he the one apologizing here? He doesn't understand it, but the words slip out.] For running.
[If he had known that Hans wasn't himself, 100%, that it could be fixed somehow, whether with time or something else?]
Did you only just return? I've been waiting for you.
no subject
Would he be feeling so idiotic right now?]
Hans...
[Where does he start? What does he do? The door is shut behind him and so he moves closer again, pressing his face into Hans' chest and wrapping his arms around him, pressing palms flat to his back.
That had been concern from Hans. He'd seen it in text, and it was even more apparent in person. Normally, that was something Oren could deal with. But the worry he'd seen— the experiences he knows Hans to have with his own family.]
I'm sorry. [Why is he the one apologizing here? He doesn't understand it, but the words slip out.] For running.
[If he had known that Hans wasn't himself, 100%, that it could be fixed somehow, whether with time or something else?]
Did you only just return? I've been waiting for you.