Work Text:
Adair was many things—a green thumb, a skilled craftsman, a lover of long walks in the woods, and, most recently, the proud owner of the largest collection of illegal fireworks in Kilima... probably. But, above all this, they were sensitive. Others may have read it as compassion or a gentle nature, but Adair saw it as something of a burden. The slightest of slights or a hint of rejection could cause a ripple in their otherwise peaceful soul was exhausting, as was the constant, low hum of anxiety they couldn't seem to shake. What was worse was how they wore it—tears at any occasion, fidgets and foot-tapping, a constant need for reassurance. How they longed to be the type of person that could keep a cool head and a level tone when faced with such challenges.
For this reason they took to Jel like thread on a spool. They'd never met someone who could smile and work through such agony, find beauty in a storm. It seemed like the greatest form of magic and they longed for even a drop of it. At least at first.
The longer they spent together, the more Adair realized Jel's smiles were as fragile as their own, barely masking a deeper turmoil. That very mask slipped as they got closer until they could no longer look away from the pain beneath.
"Jel?" They came up behind him, laying a hand on his slender waist as he placed pins in his newest garment.
"O-oh! Yes, my muse?" His voice was as sweet as ever, as were the eyes that met theirs from beneath his rosey glasses.
"Is there anything troubling you?"
His face fell a bit. "Whatever do you mean?"
"I.... nothing." And there it was again, the tells that they could feel plastered all over their face.
He placed another pin then turned fully to them, taking both of their hands. "Please, Adair. Something is troubling you, tell me."
They tried to look away, but his eyes were so intense they couldn't help but meet them. "Whatever is troubling you is what troubles me," they reluctantly admitted.
Jel blinked. "Have I done something to upset you? You must let me know and I will correct myself."
"No, that's not— I'm just worried for you. Please, Jel."
"Oh..." he sighed, releasing their hands and turning back to his work. "I suppose there is no hiding it. Not when you know me so well."
"Then what is it, exactly?"
He began to work once more. "I have not been feeling myself. I haven't been able to capture my vision in quite some time. I feel... uninspired."
"Why?"
"I wish I knew." He shrugged. "I've been experimenting, but nothing seems to satisfy me. It is as if my creations have a hole in them. It's not the fabrics, nor the cut. Perhaps I am not using enough lace?" He turned and shrugged again, offering them a small smile.
"Your creations are perfect, as they always are. You're too hard on yourself."
"Being easy won't make me better."
"But it will make you happy. You don't seem happy." Adair came up behind him once more, taking his waist. "You say things sometimes that worry me. I don't know how you can smile while you say them."
"Hm?" Jel tilted his head until it clicked. "Oh, Adair. Such is the life of an artist. We are tortured souls."
"I don't like the idea of you in torture. Art that someone suffered for... I'd rather it was never made."
"Oh." He fumbled the pin in hand, dropping it when it pricked him.
"Here," Adair bent and picked it up, offering it to him. "Is your finger alright?"
He took it with a nod, looking down to examine his finger, which was thankfully unscathed. "Yes... yes. Thank you. Would you like to join me for a walk?"
Adair was caught off guard by the sudden invitation but nodded quickly. "I'd love nothing more."
They took the stairs to the shop below then out into the streets where the evening chill was just beginning to set in. Adair found their gaze wandering, as it often did, to Jel. He had such a delicate beauty, his steps graceful as a doe's and his long fingers deftly rolling down the sleeves of his shirt. They wondered what he saw in someone as clumsy and homely as themselves.
"Something on your mind, Adair?"
"Oh, just admiring you," they smiled.
"Oh my... Well, you'll be happy to know I admire you as well. Very much so. I appreciate you and the way you care for me." He stopped and looked at them with a smile both sweet and sad, no dramatized anguish or giddy grins, just his sincerity.
"Then I hope you will confide in me." They reached out, gently brushing his cheek with the back of their hand.
"That is why we are on this walk, my muse," he said, continuing onward. They followed beside him. "I fear that... I am not well."
"I see that. How can I help?"
He stopped, looking down at his feet. "Hmm… I am not certain. I feel a great void in my heart, all-consuming in its presence. I cannot escape it, not even in creation."
"Is it loneliness?"
He thought a moment. "At times. I yearn for you when we are apart. But... this is something else. When we are together I still feel it. I feel it when I work and when I lay awake at night."
Adair felt a pang of guilt at having ever wished to walk in Jel's shoes. To be so tortured yet put together seemed a cruel existence. What had he endured that made him this way, they wondered? Did he used to cry as easily as they did? Did his heart flutter and his hands sweat at even the smallest of things? Did his family's image beat that out of him, force him to shove it down where it couldn't sully their reputation?
"It doesn't always have a name or a reason. The pain, I mean," they said. "I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away, or make it less or…"
"Don't discount yourself, Adair. You do so much for me, whether you realize it or not. You're a flame to my little moth heart. But what am I to you?"
"My world, in this moment."
"And in others?"
"Just the same. I'm happy to have met you. That's why..." They drew a deep, shuddering breath. "You'll stay, won't you? I worry, Jel. I worry one day you'll be gone. I'll come to your shop and you'll be there no longer and I don't know if my heart could take it."
Silence settled over them, heavy as a thick fog. Adair watched the emotions finally play over Jel's face, twisting into a pained expression. "It's a fleeting thought, a curiosity. I channel it into my work, not my reality. I cannot bear the thought of leaving you. Not by my own hand, not ever." His voice was as fragile as glass, threatening to crack at any moment. "I'm so sorry I ever gave you a reason to doubt my commitment to life or you or—"
Unable to help themself, Adair took Jel into their arms, holding him tight and pressing their tear streaked face into his shoulder. "I've been so afraid of saying anything. I didn't want to upset you."
He pulled back, reaching up to wipe away the tears. "No, I'm glad you did. That you worry so much for me... it means more than I have the words for. But you aren't the only one who worries. I will try to be more transparent with you, if you will do the same with me."
They nodded, taking a deep breath as they steadied themself. "Right, of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so… so…"
"Everyone cries sometimes," he reassured them, brushing away a tear from their eye before it could fall. "Me? I prefer solitude or the gentle lull of the river. A good cry in nature is a balm to the soul."
The surprise must have been evident on their face, for Jel looked just as shocked.
"Did you think I never cried, Adair?"
"I... suppose I did."
"An artist? Surely you jest. We are delicate flowers, we artists," he laughed. "I am no different. I simply prefer to do my crying alone. It's... not the prettiest sight. But you? You are a vision always. If you need a shoulder, I have one right here. Two, in fact. I'd be happy to lend you either, any time you wish."
"Thank you, but... I think that's all I needed." They smiled, wiping their eyes before straightening their jacket. "If that feeling returns, even if it's only the shadow of one, will you tell me?"
"Of course." He drew a deep breath, then sighed. "I suppose I owe you some honesty. This isn't a new feeling, not in the slightest. But it's dulled since meeting you. At times I would be overtaken by it, unable to move from my bed, wishing it would just swallow me whole. Most days it feels silly now. I see you and suddenly everything seems a little brighter, even on my worst days."
"And the days I'm not there? What do you do then?"
"I do as I've always done, I find a way. I create or cry or listen to the river. Sometimes, it's enough." He turned to look back down the path they'd been walking. The moon hung high over the trees, illuminating the river in a pale blue glow. "Ah, this is my favorite spot. I come here often and let my mind wander."
"It's beautiful."
"As are you," he said, looking to them once more. "My, I'd love to see you in a sheer fabric, the moonlight shining through it. Perhaps a light blue? And maybe some pearls and iridescent beads to mimic the water. Oh, Adair, I think I've just had a breakthrough!"
Adair smiled as they watched him, the passion in his eyes and the way he couldn't contain his excitement all too endearing. "I love to see you inspired. Happy." Genuinely so, now. "I'd be thrilled to model for you again. Last time I felt so—"
"Ethereal. Yes. You're an absolute dream. I will have to start sketching immediately. We will make a masterpiece together, you and I."
"Should we head back, then?" They offered their hand, which he took.
"Maybe soon, but I'd quite like to sit here a moment longer with you, if I may? I don't get to spend nearly enough time in your company. I'd like to admire the moonlight in your hair and the shadows on your face a while more." He pulled them closer, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from their face. His fingers trailed down, lingering on their cheek as they leaned into his touch. "May I?" he whispered, eyes darting to their lips.
Adair nodded, leaning in to meet him in a gentle kiss, lips parting as Jel pulled them closer. He tasted of the mint he'd chewed earlier and smelled of jasmine and rose oil. He was soft, holding them chastely like they were the most precious thing to grace his arms.
"Mmm," he hummed, pulling back. "You're too lovely to be real. I hope I'm not dreaming."
"Shall I pinch you to find out?" Adair smiled, feeling the heat in their cheeks.
"Aha, no. No need. The only dreams I have are nightmares so this must be reality," he chuckled. "Thank you. I'm glad I decided to come out here with you. It has eased my soul."
"Mine as well. I'll cherish this moment, Jel."
"And there will be many more ahead of us."
"Yes," they smiled, relieved. "Many more."