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"You're not dyeing it back?" Nice asked, his hands idly combing through his hair. Lin Ling, who had blanked out for a moment on the couch, blinked in response to the question.
"You're talking about my hair?"
"Mm." Nice's hand lingered, now twirling the streak of white amidst his black hair.
"I've never thought about it..." Lin Ling craned his head back further, looking up at his face upside down. "Does it not suit me?"
"It's not that." Nice drew his hand back. "I just... thought that you wouldn't want to be associated with me. That's all."
Lin Ling sat up, his expression now becoming one which was serious as he looked at him. "Where's this coming from? I don't think that way at all."
"Perhaps so." Nice evaded his gaze.
"Nice." Lin Ling slowly reached out, his hands hovering over each side of his face. Once it looked like he wasn't backing away, Lin Ling gently cupped his cheeks, guiding his head up so they were looking at each other. "There is nothing wrong with you. Not then, and definitely not now."
Nice tensed up, like he didn't quite believe him. "... you say that, but..."
Crk-
A jagged fissure shot across his face, aggravating the crack that ran down his forehead. Nice's expression faltered, and he immediately shielded his face, pulling back from Lin Ling's hold.
"Your face cracks... it's become larger?" Lin Ling was bewildered at the sight.
"Don't come any closer!" Nice clutched his face, stumbling back. "Or you will... too..."
The purplish substance he was hiding oozed from the fracture, writhing like smoke but heavier, clinging to his skin. Was that what they called fear?
Lin Ling moved forward, slow and steady.
"I told you not to..." Nice's breath came in ragged gasps. His hands trembled against his face as he continued moving backwards. The fissures only seemed to deepen at his distress.
"Nice. It's okay." Lin Ling coaxed, raising a hand to gently rest against his cracked cheek. Nice stared at his palm in alarm, especially when he had first pressed his hand onto his face, but seemed to finally calm down at the sight of him unharmed. Surprisingly, the crack on his face reverted slightly, almost less visible now, even, the more his breathing settled.
"You're not hurt?" Nice mumbled, his bloodred eye returning to normal. "Why? He told me not to come into contact with anyone..."
"He, as in... Mr Shand?"
Nice looked at him with worry. He hesitated for a moment, and nodded slightly after a while.
"Don't listen to him." Lin Ling reassured. "Look. I'm fine, aren't I?"
"He wouldn't be pleased if he found out." Nice muttered, tears prickling to his eyes. "You were never supposed to get this close to me."
"I chose to do this. I'll take responsibility if he asks." Lin Ling lightly traced a thumb below his eye, collecting the tears. "It's alright."
The reassurance broke whatever restraint Nice had left. He leaned forward, arms wrapping around Lin Ling with desperate strength, almost as though he was the sole lifeline he had while drowning. Lin Ling inhaled sharply at the contact, feeling the jagged part of Nice's cracked torso pressing into his side, but returned the embrace with twice as much fervour regardless until it seemed as though Nice was feeling better.