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“Talk to me. Say something. Say anything…”
As an avid reader, Tiziano had come across the phrase, “the silence was deafening”, a hundred times. Tonight, he was beginning to understand that it was more than a cliche bit of writing used to describe an uncomfortable silence. Squalo’s thoughts, hidden behind shimmering ocean blue eyes, were loud.
The couple had returned from an otherwise routine away mission. The boss had sent his right hand to New York and had insisted he take the entire Elite Guard with him. Nothing extraordinary there, except that Tiziano had ended up with his right arm broken and now Squalo wouldn’t talk.
It seemed as though he wanted to. The redhead was sitting on the edge of their bed staring at Tiziano like a child waiting to be scolded — one who had unwarranted guilt, that is. The couple usually showered together when they returned home and then they would have a nice, rough fuck before passing out to sleep for a day or two. Tonight, Tiz had showered alone while Squalo moped in this same spot.
Tiziano was wearing nothing but a towel and his plaster cast covered arm in a sling. Any other night, he would just drop the towel on the floor and pretend to be scandalized, but he knew it wouldn’t work now. Squalo was too wrapped up in his guilt.
“I let you get hurt,” his voice was strained and his Adam’s Apple rapidly bobbed up and down in his throat.
“Come on, Squalo,” Tiziano sighed. “You know our job isn’t to protect each other. Even so, it was my decision to tackle someone in front of the stairs.”
“He was aiming at me,” Squalo looked down at the floor.
“Yes, well,” Tiziano fussed with his damp blonde hair for a few moments before sitting down next to his partner. “So I’m a hypocrite. I got hurt while looking out for you, but I would rather it go that way than to lose you.”
Those ocean blue eyes still looked too watery as they studied Tiziano’s face. The recipient of this glance didn’t like what he was seeing. Doubt was lurking in those eyes like Clash beneath the waves, but it was Squalo that was in danger of being torn apart.
“Why?” He asked Tiziano. “I wonder...what do you even see in me? Then I think about it, how you put all those clothes on me...how I didn’t even pick out this outfit, and I think maybe you see something you can change.”
“No,” Tiziano spoke softly, but this was ignored.
“I’m afraid that I can’t be what you see in me…”
“Squalo,” Tiziano took his chin with the hand of his healthy arm. “I see someone who is bold and confident until he’s not. You destroy yourself with these types of thoughts, and it hurts me to see you do it.”
“Tiz,” Squalo began, but the blonde took his turn to cut him off.
“You act like I’m some infallible god, but I’m not. I hate it because I realize that whenever you see perfection in me, it’s because you’re comparing me to yourself and you’ve given yourself such a low grade.”
“Tiz, you are perfect to me,” Squalo argued as he gently took his hand. “Not just when I feel bad about myself. All the time. Everything you do just seems perfect. Even your little snore at night.”
Tiziano raised his brow at this, “I don’t snore…”
“You actually do,” his partner countered with a smile. “And it’s cute and perfect.”
“Ah, well,” Tiziano rambled and blushed. He slid into Squalo’s lap and put his healthy arm around his partner’s neck. “The point is I’m not actually perfect, and neither are you, but I think that we make each other better. I’m always inspired by you to do my best, Squalo.”
“Really?” The redhead asked as his fingers caressed the bare skin of Tiz’s back.
“Always,” Tiziano nodded. “It’s not just that I’m a brilliant strategist, but also the fact that I know what you can do. Every decision that I make I can do so without hesitation because I believe in you.”
“Tiz…”
“Mi Squalo,” Tiziano spoke quietly as he nuzzled into his neck. “You trust me when we’re out there, and it makes me feel like I can do anything. Trust me in our private moments too. You are everything I see in you and more.”