Swallow Your Affection

Me and My Compass

Techno doesn't return until the sky is dark, snow clouds covering any sign of stars.

After what happened outside, you're not entirely sure he even wanted to come back inside.

But nevertheless when he does return, the first thing you hear is the clunk of his boots on the steps. Long even steps, graceful in pattern, yet heavy against the stone.

The door swings open next, and your met with snow covered Techno, a sight you've started to grow accustomed to.

It surprised you that he walked out without his bone mask. You swore he wore it for intimidation, so perhaps he didn't think he needed to intimidate anyone today? Or maybe he thought it too awkward to come back in to grab it? Whatever it was, you didn't know, but he was here now, dusting off snow and hanging up his cloak.

You were nestled next to the fire, huddled in blankets and various pelts. Far too comfy to do anything but huddle there.

It was funny.

Once he figured out how often you sat next to the fire, pelts started accumulating there instead of your bed. Which was good.

Because your bed did not have enough room for as many pelt's he'd been collecting.

Another clunk of boots touching the ground.

Another piece of ice skittering along the wood.

"Welcome back." You call over your shoulder, flicking your head back to the fire once you spoke your greeting.

He hummed, before letting out a small, "Hallo..."

His footsteps headed your direction. Before he paused.

Maybe a slight miss thought? Forgot what he was doing?

You didn't know.

But when he didn't start moving again, didn't start doing any of the things he usually did, you flipped your head back around to look him in the red of his eyes.

He was staring at you.

And when your eyes made contact, he flinched.

Which made you flinch.

"What uh-" your eyes flick to look behind him before refocusing, "What are you doin there bud?"

His hands clenched, and this strangled expression wriggled onto his face.

The conflicted expressions he'd give everytime you tried to converse about deeper topics, the expression he gave when he didn't want to reveal a piece of himself, or didn't like that someone else was revealing a piece of themselves.

You squint.

And squint harder when his tongue flicks out to nervously lick at his lips.

"Any room by the fire?"

You stare.

Just for a small moment, before slowly nodding your head and patting the spot next to you.

A breath of relief escapes him, like something on his shoulders came tumbling off. A few long strides had him right next to you, before he dropped to the ground with crossed legs.

He didn't speak, and neither did you.

Even though you wanted to ask what was on his mind, you didn't. Because this wasn't Tommy.

This wasn't your friend, who will openly say how uncomfortable he is about something, or how bleak he feels things are.

This was Techno.