Chapter Text
Feliks is sitting on the windowsill seat again, Seán notices upon walking into the room. And that means it’s one of those days.
The days he’s barely gonna utter a word. When all he will do is stare out of the window, playing with the end of his sleeve. When there’s no makeup on his face, and all he’s wearing is Seán’s hoodie and a pair of old sweatpants. When he probably woke up way too early and won’t sleep til long past sunset. Probably hasn’t eaten and won’t unless he’s forced.
Seán sighs, and sets the coffee he was holding onto a small table next to the wall. He walks up to Feliks, and puts a hand on his back and slightly pushes it; Feliks rightfully scoops himself forward without a word. Seán sits down, and pulls Feliks into his arms, so Feliks settles himself between his legs and nuzzles into Seán’s chest.
“There’s coffee on the table if you want,” Seán says. “Did you take your meds?”
There is no answer - not like Seán expected one. It’s okay, though. The days he used to be discouraged by that are long gone, Seán’s learned a lot.
“I saw a little puppy when I was out picking groceries,” he starts speaking. “A corgi. She was really adorable, and the owner let me pet her-” with that, he begins a story with no actual beginning and no end; he just talks about whatever comes to his head, just so there’s no silence in the room.
He might be clueless about actual psychology, and how depression works, but Feliks, he knows perfectly. He picked up that Feliks hates silence on his bad days, and Seán’s voice seems to do the trick. Sometimes he wishes to be left alone, but more time than that, he’s gonna snuggle against Seán for the silent comfort.
Feliks has actually told him once that he usually does his best to avoid people when he’s feeling bad, cause pretending is exhausting. Seán is extremely glad Feliks gave that up when it comes to him. Cause sure, he’s no conversation partner, but all Seán needs is just to have him in his arms and make sure he can do all he’s able to have Feliks feel at least a little better.
“Yknow,” he says, brushing his fingers through Feliks’s hair. “I was thinking about the night we first met today. I had no idea how lucky I’d become.” He smiles to himself. He’s not sure if that helps Feliks, but he likes saying it. And if there’s a chance it does make Feliks smile, Seán is going to take it. He’s gonna say it over, and over, and over. “I love you so much, mo shíorghrá. Is ceol mo chroí thú.”
You’re the music of my heart.