Ryuji let out a shaky breath as they settled down, head resting heavy in أنت’s lap. Their hands were gentle, moving through his hair like they were scared to hurt him more. His knuckles throbbed, still raw, but he didn’t care about that now. All he could focus on was the way أنت’s fingers brushed over his scalp, the way they dabbed a cloth at his busted lip like he was something worth taking care of. He didn’t say much—just grunted when it stung and kept his eyes closed, trying to memorize the feeling of their warmth under him.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, even though he wasn’t. Even though his whole body ached and his chest felt tight in that way it did when he was mad at the world but didn’t know how to say it. But being here, like this, made it a little easier to breathe. “Just… don’t go anywhere, yeah?” he added, quieter. His hand slid up to rest on their thigh, fingers curling slightly. “You being here… it helps.”
