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This kid sleeps like a train wreck.
There’s nothing peaceful about how he looks, tangled up in his own limbs wrapped around himself like he’s both trying to be as small as possible while also creating as large of a barrier as he can between himself and anything else that might pose danger while he’s settled into this defenseless state. Alto wonders if he wakes up sore every day. He wonders if maybe that’s better than some alternatives this kid has experienced before.
He’s skinny and bony and too many pieces of him jut out in places to look normal, he’s something malnourished and frail on the edge of breaking. His breathing is the only thing that’s close to steady as his chest rises and falls.
It looks like it could almost be peaceful in some alternative universe. Maybe it’s just comfortable enough to allow him to let reality go for a few hours a night and slip into that one. Maybe that’s the best he could possibly hope for.
As Alto stares down at him, he shivers, pulling his limbs closer as his body shifts on the hard, unforgiving ground. Something in Alto’s chest tugs. He lets out a soft sigh as his shoulders fall. He moves to unclasp his cloak, quietly draping it over the small, jumbled form.
They still have another day and a half until they are going to get anywhere near society again, so this is the best he can do right now. He walks to the far side of the cave they’ve decided to take shelter in, settles against the wall and closes his eyes, hoping the rest of night passes quickly without incident.
It’s a shame that hope doesn’t come to pass.
“Old man.”
Alto slowly exhales a breath out of his nose as his eyes remain closed. Whatever is about to happen, it’s either far too early or far too late for this.
“Old mannnn.”
The end of that word has a tick of annoyance to it. Alto opens his eyes and red is met with yellow.
“What’s your deal?”
Alto shifts, sitting up a little as he rolls his shoulder back to alleviate the stiffness in his own joints that had started to settle in. His voice drawls.
“That’s a big question to answer in the middle of the night. Can you be more specific?”
“You gave me this. Why?”
The kid–Enjin, right, his name is Enjin now–has Alto’s cloak clutched so tightly in his outstretched fist that one might assume it had done something extremely offensive to him.
“You looked like you needed it more than I did.” Alto says, simply, because that’s the truth. “I think my evaluation was pretty accurate.”
Enjin looks wary, like a stray dog that hasn’t decided if it’s going to try to bare its teeth or not.
“So I’ll owe you?”
Alto raises an eyebrow.
“No?”
“Then why did you give it to me?”
“Ever heard of kindness?”
“I…” Uncertainty stains Enjin’s face as he frowns in a way that looks more confused than upset. “What does your kindness cost?”
Ah, he understands now. Everything this kid has ever been given has probably had strings attached in one way or another. It probably feels antithetical and dangerous to accept something like this at face value, even if that’s all it ever was.
“Nothing.” Alto reassures. “Now go back to sleep.”
He feels like that should be the end of this conversation. Enough to allow them both to settle back into whatever dregs of sleep they can manage to get before the day calls for them to keep moving. But this kid’s lack of self worth seems to be far too stubborn as he stands in place and presses the issue again.
“But it’s yours.”
“And I’m letting you use it.”
“But…” Enjin starts again, then hesitates. His mouth twitches, like it’s trying to figure out the right words. “But then you’re going to be cold. Why would you willingly give that up?”
Alto raises a hand and points a finger at Enjin. Enjin takes a small, defensive step backwards.
“Because then you’d be the cold one, obviously. See, that kind of logic goes both ways. We can go back and forth about this forever but we’ll be doing nothing but talking in circles.”
Enjin opens his mouth like he wants to keep arguing before closing it a moment later, lips pressing tightly into a line. His eyes narrow. He doesn’t seem to have a good response to that logic but clearly still feels that leaving everything as is remains an unsatisfying conclusion. Alto decides to try to offer a different solution.
“Would you want to share or something? Would that solve your unsolvable dilemma?”
Enjin flinches at the question, looking like it pricked at something horrible and unspoken.
“I-I…”
“Chill, chill…” Alto pulls his hand back calmly, instantly aware this light-hearted offer was a little more sensitive than he expected and could morph the whole exchange into a conversational minefield. “It was just a suggestion.”
Enjin pulls back, just a little, and his face falls into something unreadable. He might be trying to figure out what answer he’s supposed to give. A moment later he opts to go for a noncommittal one.
“...Maybe.”
“Maybe’s cool. We can work with maybe. It can always become no if you end up not feelin’ it.” Alto says simply, easily as he sits up even more. He reaches towards Enjin. “Give it here. Let’s give ‘maybe’ a shot.”
For all the insistence that Enjin had previously about giving the cloak back, he hesitates, just for a moment before he extends his arm and hands it over. Alto takes the familiar piece of fabric and swings it over his shoulders, fitting the folds into their proper places. He slowly lifts an arm up, creating an opening to the underside.
“Alright, c’mon.”
Enjin’s hands twitch. One moves over and gives a small scratch at the tattoo on his forearm with bitten down nails, a nervous tick, a defensive fidget, something subconscious and familiar to ground him as he stands there and looks entirely uncomfortable. His eyes dart to Alto’s face, then his outstretched arm, then his face again like his brain is trying to figure something out that has no answer. A long moment passes before he exhales a shaky breath and bends down onto his knees.
Enjin eyes bore into him, wide and watching, as he slowly crawls forward into the small opening Alto created. Every movement is tense, like he’s waiting for something in Alto’s demeanor to change, waiting for him to finally snap forward and do something that would justify all the hesitation that’s been building up in his head now that he’s allowed himself to be even more vulnerable than before. But Alto just sits there, calmly, arm raised and nothing of the like comes to pass.
Enjin turns around and leans back so his back settles under Alto’s arm, pressing up against the side of his chest. Alto lets his arm drop, draping over Enjin’s shoulder along with the side of the cloak so it covers them both.
“There. Was that so hard?”
Enjin doesn’t respond to the question. He’s just sitting there, stiff as a fucking board like every joint in his body has locked up. He doesn’t blink. He might not even be breathing.
“Hey, hey, chill. It’s fine, I promise.”
Alto reaches a hand up and places it on top of Enjin’s head, moving it back and forth. He slowly cards his fingers through the messy strands of hair, pushing them one direction, then another. His gloves are time-worn relics with rough edges so he takes extra effort to keep the movement gentle, soft and reassuring.
Something about what he’s doing works because as he repeats this motion again and again he starts to feel the tension in Enjin’s posture uncoil. After a few minutes, the kid’s shoulders fall. He shifts a little closer.
“So you’re really not going to do anything weird?”
The voice that asks is small and quiet, like it’s trying to whisper reassurances to itself.
“I’m not sure what you mean by weird but all I’m planning on doing is returning to the sleep you happened to interrupt. I just wanted you to stop shaking and didn’t wanna argue about it anymore. Anything else that happens here is up to you.”
Enjin adjusts his position again. A boney shoulder presses into Alto’s chest. Blonde hair tickles his nose as a head leans over and rests on his shoulder. He can feel the weight grow heavier. He thinks that’s probably a good sign.
“You smell.”
Alto briefly wonders if the question is supposed to be goading. Something that tests this truce they’ve settled into. Alto huffs out a sound that’s half a laugh before he decides to play along.
“Good or bad?”
“Mmm…” Enjin hums and Alto can feel the reverberation. “Different.”
This kid seems committed to giving non answers. Alto wonders if that’s subconscious or on purpose. He wonders if it's somehow its own kind of defense mechanism.
“Well if different isn’t bad. Do you think you’d be able to sleep here with me?”
Enjin doesn’t answer that as Alto settles in, lifting his hand up off Enjin’s head to pull the cloak forward so it’s fitted more securely over them both. He catches Enjin watching his movements, eyes following the motion of his hands.
“Do you ever take those gloves off?”
“Nah.” Alto says and doesn’t offer any additional explanation because he doesn’t want to give it and it’s really not the time. “Does that bother you?”
“No...”
Enjin trails off as a quiet settles between them. Alto closes his eyes, finally ready to welcome sleep once again until he’s posed another question.
“Can you…”
Alto feels Enjin’s posture prickle and wonders if he’s going to have to do some sort of additional damage control before Enjin stutters out a request.
“K-keep t-touching my h-hair?”
Alto smiles as he lifts his hand back up and places it on the top of Enjin’s head.
“Sure kid.”