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Pascal was sat on the couch, partly curled in on himself. The TV was on, and Pascal was looking at it, but he was completely dissociated. He glanced down every once in a while to look at his hand, which he was peeling the skin off of. He was wearing one of Nico's old sweaters; a black, worn out XL hoodie that had been washed so many times that the pattern on the front has dissapeared. Nico wore it a lot at home, and every once in a while after Nico had worn it for a few days Pascal would put it on for comfort.
Nico walked out of their bedroom with some fresh clothes on after a shower. It was a slow pace, which quickly halted once he saw Pascal in the previously described state. He'd reminded Pascal enough times not to pick at his skin to know it was more of a subconscious lean than it was purposefully. Old habits die hard, he'd assumed. He paused for a moment longer before making his way around the couch and next to Pascal. The German didn't even look up, which Nico took as a bad sign.
"Pasc, hey," Nico called out gently. Pascal waited a moment before tilting his head up to look at Nico. His eyes still stared off into nothingness, as if Nico wasn't even there.
"Hey," Pascal responded, albeit a little deadpan. His fingernails still scraped over the thenar eminence of his palm. Nico stuck his tongue out to wetten his dry lips as he thought about how to go about this situation.
"You okay?" Nico asked. He knew the answer was no, as it was clearly obvious by the skin picking and sweater wearing, but he wanted Pascal to admit that. Said German locked his eyes onto the Swiss, and Nico could see some of the reality befall back into Pascal's eyes.
"Yeah, I..." Pascal trailed off. He looked back down to his hands, but didn't stop picking at his skin. He didn't want to admit to Nico that he was thinking about António and André again. Who wants to hear that their partner won't stop thinking about their exes, even if it's due to self worth issues? However, it might kill Pascal more just to lie to Nico. The Swiss had made it very clear that he was a safe space. "I'm not... okay. I'm... I'm thinking about them again."
Nico opened up his arms wide, to which Pascal slowly crawled over and placed himself onto Nico. The blond kept them both in a loose hug, and Pascal got to stay in his half-balled up form. He was still picking at his thumb skin, but Nico wasn't going to pester Pascal about a form of self-soothing instead of actually tackling the root of the problem. Instead, Nico tried his best to give his own comfort.
"If you wanna talk through it, I'm here to listen, and if you don't, then I'm your rock," Nico reminded. He gently rubbed Pascal's back up and down as the ravenette began to space out again. He really didn't want to speak, because the guilt of talking about it arguably weighed on him more than the rest of the thoughts did.
Pascal pressed his head harder up against Nico's chest, let out a sigh, and closed his eyes. It was a warmer and more comfortable place that he could sort out his thoughts. Nico leaned down and pushed through the German's hair to leave a little kiss.
"If it means anything, at least you're not dating them anymore," Nico softly remarked. Nico's grip on him tightened slightly, and somehow that was the tipping point. Tears began to flow out of Pascal's eyes and caught on the cotton of Nico's shirt.
"I'm sorry," Pascal squeaked as he shifted his hands over to grip further down Nico's shirt and continued to cry into it. The blond rested his head on the ravenette and closed his own eyes as well.
"You're allowed to cry, baby, it's okay," Nico cooed. So Pascal did. A lot. Enough to soak most of Nico's now not-fresh shirt, and that was okay. Nico would rather deal with every single shirt being cried through than let Pascal cry alone.
A long, unknown amount of time passed before the tears dried up and Pascal finally lifted his head.
"I'm sorry if I've ever pushed away any of your interests," Pascal mumbled. Nico slid his arms up from Pascal's back to his face and scratched behind his ears.
"You haven't. I feel really comfortable being able to talk to you about everything," Nico assured.
"But if I do-"
"If you do, then I'll gently point it out and ask why. I doubt you will, but if you do then we'll talk about it. Because I love you, Pasc. And I know you love me."
"I love you a lot."
"I love you a lot, too."
"Would this be a bad time to mention something I just remembered from the Winter Olympics?"
Nico let out a small, amused huff and pressed a kiss right onto Pascal's lips. It might not be obvious to some, but by god was this Swiss head over heels for the man in his arms.
"I'd love to hear you talk about what you remembered."