Work Text:
“Come here,” Orga says, and is mildly surprised that Mika doesn’t immediately scramble towards him.
This place is too poor to afford proper lighting, but the flashes of silver across the sky lets him see Mika’s face by the makeshift doorway. He’s curled up into a ball, hiding the spikes underneath. There have been countless people who have underestimated the other boy because of his size, but all those have been beaten to the ground, one way or another.
“You go to sleep first, Orga.” Mika shifts so that he’s facing him, but he still doesn’t budge. Heavy rain attempts to drench him from where he’s seated. “I’ll do first watch.”
Sometimes, he wonders just what Mika sees in him, to want to devote himself into protecting him and following him, even when he has nothing to offer. But only sometimes. Most of the time, he greedily drinks in this kind of devotion. Mika believes in him wholeheartedly, so he can afford to be reckless, to challenge more. One day, they’d be able to have a proper living, where they wouldn’t have to feed on scraps and sleep on battered dumpsters.
“Come here,” he repeats, and stretches his arms. “It’s cold, so keep me company, okay?”
That way of phrasing manages to move Mika, who then approaches him and burrows to his side. Despite the behavior that could be considered as ‘cute’, small hands prepare a pistol and a knife, not losing his vigilance.
Orga has a gun too, in his backpocket, but he doesn’t take it out. Mika’s beside him, and his presence is enough to guarantee his safety.
-
end