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Summary
“…Iz?” This… This is not the voice he usually uses when they play like this. His tone is gentle… almost wary. Izzy keeps his eyes downcast, his fingers flexing reflexively behind his back. “Izzy, look at me.” It’s a command… barely, but still. Izzy sucks in a deep breath and raises his eyes to meet Ed’s. Stede makes a sound like all of the air has been punched out of his lungs.
“Darling,” Stede is crowding his space—not quite close enough to touch him, but still close enough that Izzy can feel the heat radiating off of his body. “What happened? You’re crying.” Izzy wants to laugh, cruel and dark. Way to point out the fucking obvious. Instead, he just cries harder.