15.Sep.18, 01:53 PM
N’mor was starting to doubt T’ryn would ever reply to his question, causing a spike of anxiety as he waited, resisting the urge to fidget by pure determination. Maybe he didn’t even want to be friends anymore? Had he mis-read the letter that badly? Despite his ability to withhold fidgeting, N’mor couldn’t stop the flush that started to grow up his neck and onto his cheeks, feeling mortified and he closed his eyes, breathing out slowly, when T’ryn finally answered. Pale eyes flashed open and he gave a soft gasp when he found his fellow bronzerider suddenly hugging him.
No thought was needed as N’mor wrapped his arm tightly around T’ryn, pressing his face into the crook of T’ryn’s neck and breathing in the warm, familiar scent. Even before they slept together, N’mor would have recognised the scent of his friend, so often had they spent time together, and hugging was hardly something they never did. He didn’t realise he was crying until he sniffled, startling himself. He wasn’t embarrassed, though, especially since he could feel T’ryn’s tears against his own neck. Faranth they were a pair of idiotic babies! N’mor pulled back a little, giving his friend a watery, droll smile and resting their foreheads together, though slightly on the side, mostly so he would be less tempted to kiss him… again.
Sighing out a deep breath, N’mor pressed their cheeks together for a moment, before stepping gently out of the hug, his touch lingering just slightly. Lips tilted in his crooked smirk once more, N’mor studied T’ryn’s face for a few breaths. “I’ll let you go back to bed,” N’mor said dryly, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Though I will not see you for breakfast!” N’mor stuck his tongue out, having no desire at all to be up early enough for breakfast, after… whatever the time was presently. Of course, he would probably still rise at his usual early hour regardless. “Maybe lunch or dinner?” He left the question hanging before taking a couple of steps backwards. “Good night, T.” Disappointed as he was with the outcome, N’mor was well aware that it could have been a lot worse. Pale eyes bright with amusement, N’mor blew T’ryn a kiss and slipped out the door, closing it gently before making his way quietly back to his room.
Once back in his own weyr, N’mor carefully flattened the somewhat ruffled parchment that T’ryn’s letter was written on, and slid it in amongst his music sheets, knowing it would be safe there. Only then did he drag his feet to bed, and collapse on the mattress, dragging the bedding up over himself and swiftly falling asleep.
No thought was needed as N’mor wrapped his arm tightly around T’ryn, pressing his face into the crook of T’ryn’s neck and breathing in the warm, familiar scent. Even before they slept together, N’mor would have recognised the scent of his friend, so often had they spent time together, and hugging was hardly something they never did. He didn’t realise he was crying until he sniffled, startling himself. He wasn’t embarrassed, though, especially since he could feel T’ryn’s tears against his own neck. Faranth they were a pair of idiotic babies! N’mor pulled back a little, giving his friend a watery, droll smile and resting their foreheads together, though slightly on the side, mostly so he would be less tempted to kiss him… again.
Sighing out a deep breath, N’mor pressed their cheeks together for a moment, before stepping gently out of the hug, his touch lingering just slightly. Lips tilted in his crooked smirk once more, N’mor studied T’ryn’s face for a few breaths. “I’ll let you go back to bed,” N’mor said dryly, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Though I will not see you for breakfast!” N’mor stuck his tongue out, having no desire at all to be up early enough for breakfast, after… whatever the time was presently. Of course, he would probably still rise at his usual early hour regardless. “Maybe lunch or dinner?” He left the question hanging before taking a couple of steps backwards. “Good night, T.” Disappointed as he was with the outcome, N’mor was well aware that it could have been a lot worse. Pale eyes bright with amusement, N’mor blew T’ryn a kiss and slipped out the door, closing it gently before making his way quietly back to his room.
Once back in his own weyr, N’mor carefully flattened the somewhat ruffled parchment that T’ryn’s letter was written on, and slid it in amongst his music sheets, knowing it would be safe there. Only then did he drag his feet to bed, and collapse on the mattress, dragging the bedding up over himself and swiftly falling asleep.