it shouldn't be. it's the same thing he's been doing for weeks now, more or less. existing adjacent to emil. sleeping curled at the head of the bed, but so careful now not to cross the invisible line between emil's space and his own. all his life, it's been lalli who needed his space. he's never had to be careful of someone else's before.
he didn't have to be careful of it last night, either. they were - not just okay, better than okay. emil smiled again. lalli thinks he must have smiled, too. he curves his mouth now in the dark to see if it feels familiar, but it just makes something twist in the pit of his gut. he shouldn't be doing this. he needs to sleep. he needs to but he can't, because for the first time since they've met, emil feels like a stranger and the bedroom feels just as wrong as it did when emil was dead.
this is impossible. it's unsustainable, that's the pragmatic term. but there's no pragmatic answer to this. only the brutally stubborn decision not to address it, followed in a pathetically short amount of time by - ❱
I don't know how to fix this. ❰ miserably, almost desperately, barely more than a whisper. he knows emil is awake. stranger or no, he knows the sound of sleep-breathing. ❱ I killed you and I broke it and I don't know what to do but I can't just - ❰ his throat closes around the words, but he forces it back open. forces his tone to level out even just a little bit, even as his hand lifts up to grip at some of the hair near his temple. ❱ Tried to be strangers again, like you want to be. But I'm weak and I'm stupid and I don't know how to do that, either. ❰ he doesn't seem to realize his tone's gone that little bit ragged again already.
his lips press together a second, then he exhales a helpless sort of huff. ❱
( He isn't asleep, that's correct. Emil is lying on his pillow; he'd be staring straight at the ceiling if his eyes were open, but they're closed and his breathing is deep. Sleep won't come for a while, but just...existing like this, it keeps his headache at bay.
If they weren't in bed, he'd think the first comment is some observation about a drawer sticking, or some other banal problem. No, there's that tone to it...so sad, despondent that it causes Emil to open his eyes as he wracks his brain for some context.
Then he hears something he's been trying to avoid thinking about for these past two weeks: "I killed you."
Emil forgets to breathe after that, but he holds on to every word Lalli says. They're all important, and most of them are familiar. Words he's been thinking himself, and that's why they confuse him as much as they rip his heart in two. Lalli ends by lamenting the presence -- more correctly, the lack thereof -- of a cat, or maybe Emil cuts him off by sitting up quickly and turning his whole body to look down and absorb just how miserable the other man is. )
Lalli, I... ( His voice is a hoarse half-whisper, trying to force down the panic this sudden conversation has instilled within him. What does he say to all of that? Why is he parroting these sentiments that Emil has kept inside of himself this whole time? How can Lalli think these things that are so categorically untrue when they come from his own mouth? Where does a cat fit into all of this?
To aptly sum it up, voice catching in his throat halfway through ) What are you saying? That's all just...that's not how it is.
❰ but that is how it is. all of it, for weeks now. and now lalli finally caves and admits to it, and emil tells him he's wrong.
or maybe he really just is wrong. maybe he thought this was because of what he did, but really it was just... inevitable. maybe there was no version of this in which emil didn't come to the realization that lalli wasn't what he was looking for, in a friend or whatever else he may have thought he wanted. maybe lalli was stupid for believing it ever could have been some other way.
he doesn't know what to say. he doesn't know how to even begin to address it when it was hard enough to say even as much as he did. so what comes out is a whispered, ❱ Okay. ❰ okay, emil's right, lalli continues to not understand a single thing happening in his own life. ❱
( The misery stagnates on Lalli's face as Emil searches for some understanding within this sudden outpouring. Deep within him, he knew one day things had to break. That Lalli would tell him that he couldn't do this anymore, that he wasn't worth the babysitting that gave him nothing in return.
It's wholly inaccurate, but it's a push. There's a leak in the wall between them, and it's going to be impossible to plug up with how big the hole has grown. Lalli accepts what he says, but in return he can't do the same. )
Lalli, you can't think-- ( Emil stops himself, trying for once to think about what he says thoroughly before he blurts out some half-baked reasoning that's more accusation than apology. The focus shouldn't be on how wrong Lalli is in the moment, but how wrong he's been for weeks now. His voice can't be forced to raise above a whisper himself, with how much pressure he's applying to every word he says. ) You didn't do anything wrong. I did. It was all me.
❰ emil is searching him now. lalli can feel it. he can feel those eyes staring down at him, trying to puzzle something out. but what is there to figure out? lalli said his piece, he was apparently wrong, and that's that. that's the entirety of his ability to try, all blown in one stupid outpouring of stupid words. emil's saying he 'can't think -' and it's true, he can't. he's done thinking. there's nothing left to think about.
but then - 'i did. it was all me.' despite himself, his brow knits sharply and he's pushing up onto an elbow to meet his eyes in something caught between confusion and objection. ❱ Don't be stupid.
❰ some part of the back of his mind latches onto a disconnect - if he doesn't think lalli did anything wrong, why the hell has he all but avoided him since he revived? but lalli doesn't have time to think about that yet, because - ❱ I dragged you into a fight that got you killed, then I - ❰ killed him again, even though he didn't have to. but lalli already said that part once. he swallows, then shakes his head a little. ❱
( 'Don't be stupid.' There's an archaic flare of irritation he feels, but it's squashed quickly by another bolt of confusion. Yes, what Lalli is saying is true...in some respects. )
You didn't drag me. You did everything right. ( That's why he did trust Lalli. He still does. And while that faith in him extends to thinking he would have his back, that's a street that runs both ways. He was ill-equipped, and he paid the price for it.
That has nothing to do with whether or not he could put his trust in Lalli, in anyone. It's something that hurts Emil to vocalize, both having to openly admit to this glaring fault, but also to speak into the air something that would deservedly mean his friend -- his only friend, for such a long stretch of time -- should have nothing to do with him. )
I couldn't-- ( Cut it. Survive. Be relied upon. Do anything right. Emil chokes before he could finish that sentence, and that's unfortunate for him because it's the easier thing to admit. What's really going to do this whole thing in is the second part. ) And then I tried to hurt you.
You didn't. ❰ he fires back without missing a beat, in the same sharp, non-negotiable tone he's used in the past when they were in danger and it was important that he not be questioned. this isn't quite the same situation. at least, the danger isn't quite as tangible anywhere outside of their own heads. regardless, it's a little softer but no less firm when he continues. ❱ It wasn't you. It wasn't. Doesn't matter if you remember it. They're something else's memories, not yours.
❰ a beat, and then another flicker of his brow, because it's occurring to him again (for the first time in weeks now), ❱ You wouldn't hurt me. ❰ there's an undertone of something like wonder underneath the insistent tone, because those four words entirely re-contextualize the entirety of emil's behavior since he's come back. lalli's not entirely sure what the new context is, but he's sure that his statement is true, and also that - ❱ You know you wouldn't.
( This is also true, but hard to internalize. He'd never intentionally hurt Lalli, never. He once had to consider the prospect of killing him when they were stranded in Denmark, but that was so quickly deflected as nonsense. There isn't any way. He could never.
But his head shakes involuntarily, knowing what Lalli has said but unable to fully agree. )
But I do remember. I have to think about it every day. All of it...and, and even if I was undead and it doesn't count somehow, I wouldn't have been if I just paid attention, or was better at magic, or. Or something. ( Just saying all of it brings some of it back in bits and pieces, and his gaze floats downwards again. Now that he's said one thing, everything feels like it's crowding in his throat, mouth open just so words can shove themselves out in manic order. ) None of that is your fault, that's all mine. My fault I died, my fault I tried to hurt you...I did.
( He knows that all too well. Those are the images he feels most haunted by. )
❰ but even as lalli's coming to understand so much, emil still doesn't understand anything. he's still blaming himself, as if lalli could possibly have asked for anyone better or stronger or braver to fight beside that day. as if lalli could've been even an ounce more proud of him for the entire battle up until the finn froze up and let the wight get to him.
and he doesn't seem to realize any of that, and lalli hates it. hates the words, hates the manic, miserable tone in which they're coming out. it's all so wrong and it needs to stop -
and before lalli can even think, he's sitting up the rest of the way to clumsily, urgently press his lips against emil's.
he lingers like that for a second or two, just long enough to make sure he's successfully interrupted whatever meltdown emil was having. then he pulls back, pressing their foreheads together instead to mutter a fierce, ❱ Olet niin tyhmä. You don't know anything.
( The words might not stop spilling out, and the wall is successfully broken with how much he feels could pour out of his brain if given the choice to continue. Emil pauses for a moment to swallow, to try and keep himself from choking out a sob or something even more unbecoming, when it happens. So quickly that his brain can't fully understand what's going on, even if the rest of him does.
It happens so fast that for each second, his senses flip-flop from one reaction to another. At first, his first physical instinct is to lean in, forgetting the black cloud of sadness and guilt that surrounds the moment. He's wanted this, for months. The thought of it has lingered and been pushed away so many different times since. It's so sudden, uneven, but he does accomplish it, for just that first second.
Then the rest of his mind blares a warning that this isn't the time, not at all appropriate, deserved, earned. What it actually means, he doesn't have any idea. Everything is emotional, spur of the moment, and not at all enjoyable. His first kiss falls into that abyss, but it's over before he has the sense to listen and pull away.
Sometime during, Emil closed his eyes. It makes it easier, better to feel how their heads connect now, and he takes a shuddering breath inward to ground himself further. Whatever that truly meant is something to address when everything else is settled. There's still so much he doesn't want to lose outside of it. )
I just didn't want to lose you, even if I should have. ( Emil's voice doesn't need to be much louder than a whisper now with how close they are. If anything, this exchange has made him feel more secure in that sentiment being mutual, with a slight tingling in his lips as tactile proof. )
❰ it was a stab in the dark, honestly. words weren't working and this was the (admittedly ill-advised) next thing to mind. it didn't occur to him that it wasn't the right moment, or that emil wouldn't want him to. luckily it still hasn't quite occurred to him, or else he might take it as a lesson learned and avoid doing that again.
but now they're forehead-to-forehead, and emil - well. he isn't relaxing, but it's something relax-adjacent that is still much better than his panic before. it solidifies lalli's resolve to maintain that contact, and he's careful to keep his forehead where it is while he shifts positions from half-sprawled to upright and crosslegged.
'i just didn't want to lose you, even if i should have,' emil murmurs now, and the finn shakes his head a little. ❱ Then stop pushing, stupid. ❰ because that's what he's been doing ever since he came back - pushing lalli farther and farther away. deliberately, it seemed like. at least most of the time. ❱
( His thoughts have slowed down, but that doesn't change their content much. Relief comes now with being called 'stupid' by Lalli, which may not have ever been the nicest thing, but it's normal.
It's not an incorrect accusation -- Emil felt like he had kept Lalli at arm's length before walking backwards as much as he could allow, but those moments of weakness probably felt like a rubber band snapping closer at times, then bouncing backwards. If Lalli wasn't feeling some obligation to him, close only as a means of taking care of his uselessness, then his actions would have definitely felt like a push. )
I never wanted to. ( And that's true. For as much as Emil thought he didn't deserve to continue to be friends with Lalli, he always wanted to be. A sigh escapes his lips, and he can feel some of the sowed anxiety leaving his body. Everything will be okay, no matter what, as long as Lalli isn't leaving him. ) I hated thinking about how much you went through during-- and I just made it worse afterwards. I'm sorry.
( It's been a while since he thought he had any right to engage contact with Lalli, and the sudden permission he's receiving is calling to him. One of his hands finds one of his friend's, giving it a tight squeeze before his thumb rubs absentmindedly. Emil's voice remains small, as his eyes the motion his hand is committing to. ) I just hate how much I disappointed you. We worked so much and trained for it all and -- you're the strongest person I know, so I should have known...
I just don't want to be so useless to you anymore.
❰ and lalli lets his hand be taken, squeezed, rubbed. it's not something he's terribly used to, even after this many months - but it's so much better than distance. almost anything is, at this point.
but then emil's talking about disappointment and being useless and lalli's eyes open sharply, staring the swede down even in this proximity. ❱ Stop, ❰ he says, quiet but non-negotiable. ❱ You were there because you were ready. Because you're stronger than you think, and. ❰ emil might be able to feel his brow knit a little as he stumbles, piecing together words. ❱ I would've been weaker if you weren't. ❰ he can't quite directly say that he's stronger when emil's around, so this will have to do. ❱
( He's not used to being so self-deprecating, but in this serious situation when dire things happened, it feels like a necessity to drop the facade of ego and assurance. But Lalli continues to deflect his insecurities and apologies, and he wants to be happy for that praise like usual. It's still hard; his guilt is being assuaged, but it's not a switch he can simply flip off.
The compliment is also one that's very weighty, which gives him more conflicting feelings. That sentiment feels like it should be impossible after what happened -- and this is neglecting to mention becoming undead, with an attempt to kill his friend on top of it -- but the idea of it being truth makes his chest swell a little. Lalli wouldn't just lie to him; thus this has to be how he feels. It leaves Emil with a certain sense of awe, simply because he knows he could say the same thing to his friend, but didn't expect it to be said to him. )
I believe you. ( Lalli's hand gets another squeeze. For as much as he's being reassured at the moment, he hasn't forgotten how this whole conversation started. ) But you have to know none of this is your fault either, right? I want you to believe me, too.
❰ good. good, emil seems to be listening to him. which is... good, because lalli doesn't know if he could push himself any farther than that. if he could articulate it any better or more effectively.
but then things are turning back on him, and lalli finally breaks the contact between their heads (though not between their hands) to cast his gaze off to a moonlit patch of floor with a dubious sort of huff.
after a moment, ❱ I believe you don't think it is.
( Emil tilts his head to try and find Lalli's gaze now that their heads aren't together. He can deal with overcoming his own shortcomings, even if it's currently a hard pill to swallow, but he can't let Lalli continue to think he has some fault in this mess.
Both of his hands hold onto the Finn's, now, as if he hopes the stronger grasp can put an emphasis his feelings. ) I'm responsible for what I did or didn't do. ( Which remains something that he finds some surrealism in; Emil has had to say and own a lot of things he's grown into. ) And because of that, you did what you had to. You could have been hurt or died otherwise.
( There's a certain desperation that enters his voice now, thinking back so vividly to those memories Lalli says aren't his own. Things weren't as bad as they could have been because Lalli is as strong as he is. Were the roles reversed, things would have been much worse. ) I don't blame you for anything, so please don't blame yourself.
❰ lalli does have some fault in this mess. emil trusted him and lalli let him down. then emil wasn't alive to trust him anymore, and he still managed to let him down a second time.
it's a fact that lalli can't let go of and emil won't let him hang onto.
other things emil wouldn't like: any sort of confession that 'you could've been hurt or died' wouldn't have been an outcome he would've been too upset about, at that point. better than trying to figure out how to live beyond that battle.
but it's fine. there's a compromise here, simple enough that even lalli can see it. ❱ Doesn't matter whose fault, does it? ❰ he lets emil catch his gaze now, not quite directly but more so than before. ❱ It's done now. ❰ isn't it? it feels like it is, but lalli might just be hopeful and stupid. ❱
( Even if Lalli is looking past him in the moment, it's comforting enough that Emil's top hand lets go of their still-shared grip, not feeling so passionate about the need to get through to him.
Maybe he still does, but that's not the argument he's being presented with at the moment. He wants to be stubborn and push it. To make sure Lalli knows with every cell of his brain that he didn't do anything wrong. But he's having a hard time letting go of his guilt immediately, so maybe this is exactly like that. Emil can't knock this down in one conversation. )
It's done. ( Accented with a slow and bobbing nod, as well as a final squeeze to Lalli's hand before he lets go. With one more sigh, expelling more of the residual anxiety in his lungs, it's easier to see how much of the tension is leaving his body slowly but surely. Emil feels his shoulders sag with the realization, body language tired but relieved. ) I'm glad. I've missed things just being normal.
❰ and though the contact between them is lessening, it's more a relief than anything. not because lalli objects to the touch, but because this is proof that things don't break the instant the contact between them does. emil's words just confirm it, really. 'i've missed things just being normal.' ❱
It's better, ❰ lalli agrees, nodding a little. it's as close to 'i've missed it, too' as he can really manage. maybe one day he'll be better at this. in the meantime, it's punctuated by a pretty robust yawn, which he wipes away with the back of his hand as if to deny the existence of it. part of him still feels like if he falls asleep, he'll wake up back into a reality where everything's still not okay. ❱
( In all of this, Emil almost forget that this was essentially the middle of the night. He is tired. Not totally a comfortable kind of tired, but it's certainly the closest he's felt to it in quite some time. The fact that it will come closer as time goes on is relieving to him; he's missed getting a good night's sleep.
No matter what they'd resolved, there are things that will still make it difficult. That shooting pain in his head that interrupts him in the middle of the night on occasion, or dreaming about the sensation of dying or his time as an undead wight. But if he can check off this anxiety, that's something.
At the moment, Lalli seems more tired if that large yawn is anything to go by. It's obvious enough that a small smile comes across Emil's face. )
Go ahead and lay back down. ( He'll also follow his own suggestion and stretch his legs sideways, scooting over to accommodate Lalli's crossed legs before he scoots his own under his blankets, pulling them over his body as much as he can while he goes flat. Emil won't be asleep for a while, but it'll solidify that feeling of comfort to look over soon and see his friend's curled body, knowing that things will be okay from here on. )
❰ despite emil's encouragement, lalli watches the swede settle into his own spot, seeming almost indecisive. it would honestly be a pretty fair guess to assume that he's not entirely comforted by the conversation after all - but that's not at all the case.
instead, he's uncrossing his legs to carefully slide down under emil's blanket(s), on whichever side he's facing away from. he stops once they're parallel, reaching up to drag a pillow down to his new location, but he doesn't really use it yet. for now, his forehead finds the hollow between emil's shoulder blades, the fingertips of one hand resting beside it. whether this is for him or for emil, he's not entirely sure. ❱
God natt, ❰ he mutters, eyes finally closing for the first time since they first attempted to go to bed. ❱
( The sudden movement doesn't surprise Emil, but where it shifts towards does. There's some maneuvering, shifting within the mattress before Lalli winds up so far away from his usual spot, out of sight. It's not as concerning as it might be otherwise in this vulnerable moment, as he feels the hard surface of Lalli's head against his back, with the ghost of his fingers finding a place right beside it.
His breath slows to a stop suddenly, aware that where Lalli is placed, he'll be able to feel the exact moments of Emil's inhales and exhales. After a moment, his breath goes in again as he lets his muscles relax. This is something he couldn't ask for. Not so close to all of this turmoil coming to an end, and not even in general. But he wants it. There's something very soothing about even just a simple touch that says 'I'm here, you're here too.' For that, Emil is grateful. )
God natt.( There's an inward curse; he should have said it back in Finnish instead of just parroting back what he'd heard. His next exhale is long and slow, but he's careful not to jostle himself too much. For as long as Lalli is willing to be there, he'd like to feel that safe, soft presence. )
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❰ action ❱ day 154 (nov 10th), late night.
it shouldn't be. it's the same thing he's been doing for weeks now, more or less. existing adjacent to emil. sleeping curled at the head of the bed, but so careful now not to cross the invisible line between emil's space and his own. all his life, it's been lalli who needed his space. he's never had to be careful of someone else's before.
he didn't have to be careful of it last night, either. they were - not just okay, better than okay. emil smiled again. lalli thinks he must have smiled, too. he curves his mouth now in the dark to see if it feels familiar, but it just makes something twist in the pit of his gut. he shouldn't be doing this. he needs to sleep. he needs to but he can't, because for the first time since they've met, emil feels like a stranger and the bedroom feels just as wrong as it did when emil was dead.
this is impossible. it's unsustainable, that's the pragmatic term. but there's no pragmatic answer to this. only the brutally stubborn decision not to address it, followed in a pathetically short amount of time by - ❱
I don't know how to fix this. ❰ miserably, almost desperately, barely more than a whisper. he knows emil is awake. stranger or no, he knows the sound of sleep-breathing. ❱ I killed you and I broke it and I don't know what to do but I can't just - ❰ his throat closes around the words, but he forces it back open. forces his tone to level out even just a little bit, even as his hand lifts up to grip at some of the hair near his temple. ❱ Tried to be strangers again, like you want to be. But I'm weak and I'm stupid and I don't know how to do that, either. ❰ he doesn't seem to realize his tone's gone that little bit ragged again already.
his lips press together a second, then he exhales a helpless sort of huff. ❱
I can't even find a stupid cat.
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If they weren't in bed, he'd think the first comment is some observation about a drawer sticking, or some other banal problem. No, there's that tone to it...so sad, despondent that it causes Emil to open his eyes as he wracks his brain for some context.
Then he hears something he's been trying to avoid thinking about for these past two weeks: "I killed you."
Emil forgets to breathe after that, but he holds on to every word Lalli says. They're all important, and most of them are familiar. Words he's been thinking himself, and that's why they confuse him as much as they rip his heart in two. Lalli ends by lamenting the presence -- more correctly, the lack thereof -- of a cat, or maybe Emil cuts him off by sitting up quickly and turning his whole body to look down and absorb just how miserable the other man is. )
Lalli, I... ( His voice is a hoarse half-whisper, trying to force down the panic this sudden conversation has instilled within him. What does he say to all of that? Why is he parroting these sentiments that Emil has kept inside of himself this whole time? How can Lalli think these things that are so categorically untrue when they come from his own mouth? Where does a cat fit into all of this?
To aptly sum it up, voice catching in his throat halfway through ) What are you saying? That's all just...that's not how it is.
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or maybe he really just is wrong. maybe he thought this was because of what he did, but really it was just... inevitable. maybe there was no version of this in which emil didn't come to the realization that lalli wasn't what he was looking for, in a friend or whatever else he may have thought he wanted. maybe lalli was stupid for believing it ever could have been some other way.
he doesn't know what to say. he doesn't know how to even begin to address it when it was hard enough to say even as much as he did. so what comes out is a whispered, ❱ Okay. ❰ okay, emil's right, lalli continues to not understand a single thing happening in his own life. ❱
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It's wholly inaccurate, but it's a push. There's a leak in the wall between them, and it's going to be impossible to plug up with how big the hole has grown. Lalli accepts what he says, but in return he can't do the same. )
Lalli, you can't think-- ( Emil stops himself, trying for once to think about what he says thoroughly before he blurts out some half-baked reasoning that's more accusation than apology. The focus shouldn't be on how wrong Lalli is in the moment, but how wrong he's been for weeks now. His voice can't be forced to raise above a whisper himself, with how much pressure he's applying to every word he says. ) You didn't do anything wrong. I did. It was all me.
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but then - 'i did. it was all me.' despite himself, his brow knits sharply and he's pushing up onto an elbow to meet his eyes in something caught between confusion and objection. ❱ Don't be stupid.
❰ some part of the back of his mind latches onto a disconnect - if he doesn't think lalli did anything wrong, why the hell has he all but avoided him since he revived? but lalli doesn't have time to think about that yet, because - ❱ I dragged you into a fight that got you killed, then I - ❰ killed him again, even though he didn't have to. but lalli already said that part once. he swallows, then shakes his head a little. ❱
You trusted me. I didn't deserve that.
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You didn't drag me. You did everything right. ( That's why he did trust Lalli. He still does. And while that faith in him extends to thinking he would have his back, that's a street that runs both ways. He was ill-equipped, and he paid the price for it.
That has nothing to do with whether or not he could put his trust in Lalli, in anyone. It's something that hurts Emil to vocalize, both having to openly admit to this glaring fault, but also to speak into the air something that would deservedly mean his friend -- his only friend, for such a long stretch of time -- should have nothing to do with him. )
I couldn't-- ( Cut it. Survive. Be relied upon. Do anything right. Emil chokes before he could finish that sentence, and that's unfortunate for him because it's the easier thing to admit. What's really going to do this whole thing in is the second part. ) And then I tried to hurt you.
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❰ a beat, and then another flicker of his brow, because it's occurring to him again (for the first time in weeks now), ❱ You wouldn't hurt me. ❰ there's an undertone of something like wonder underneath the insistent tone, because those four words entirely re-contextualize the entirety of emil's behavior since he's come back. lalli's not entirely sure what the new context is, but he's sure that his statement is true, and also that - ❱ You know you wouldn't.
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But his head shakes involuntarily, knowing what Lalli has said but unable to fully agree. )
But I do remember. I have to think about it every day. All of it...and, and even if I was undead and it doesn't count somehow, I wouldn't have been if I just paid attention, or was better at magic, or. Or something. ( Just saying all of it brings some of it back in bits and pieces, and his gaze floats downwards again. Now that he's said one thing, everything feels like it's crowding in his throat, mouth open just so words can shove themselves out in manic order. ) None of that is your fault, that's all mine. My fault I died, my fault I tried to hurt you...I did.
( He knows that all too well. Those are the images he feels most haunted by. )
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and he doesn't seem to realize any of that, and lalli hates it. hates the words, hates the manic, miserable tone in which they're coming out. it's all so wrong and it needs to stop -
and before lalli can even think, he's sitting up the rest of the way to clumsily, urgently press his lips against emil's.
he lingers like that for a second or two, just long enough to make sure he's successfully interrupted whatever meltdown emil was having. then he pulls back, pressing their foreheads together instead to mutter a fierce, ❱ Olet niin tyhmä. You don't know anything.
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It happens so fast that for each second, his senses flip-flop from one reaction to another. At first, his first physical instinct is to lean in, forgetting the black cloud of sadness and guilt that surrounds the moment. He's wanted this, for months. The thought of it has lingered and been pushed away so many different times since. It's so sudden, uneven, but he does accomplish it, for just that first second.
Then the rest of his mind blares a warning that this isn't the time, not at all appropriate, deserved, earned. What it actually means, he doesn't have any idea. Everything is emotional, spur of the moment, and not at all enjoyable. His first kiss falls into that abyss, but it's over before he has the sense to listen and pull away.
Sometime during, Emil closed his eyes. It makes it easier, better to feel how their heads connect now, and he takes a shuddering breath inward to ground himself further. Whatever that truly meant is something to address when everything else is settled. There's still so much he doesn't want to lose outside of it. )
I just didn't want to lose you, even if I should have. ( Emil's voice doesn't need to be much louder than a whisper now with how close they are. If anything, this exchange has made him feel more secure in that sentiment being mutual, with a slight tingling in his lips as tactile proof. )
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but now they're forehead-to-forehead, and emil - well. he isn't relaxing, but it's something relax-adjacent that is still much better than his panic before. it solidifies lalli's resolve to maintain that contact, and he's careful to keep his forehead where it is while he shifts positions from half-sprawled to upright and crosslegged.
'i just didn't want to lose you, even if i should have,' emil murmurs now, and the finn shakes his head a little. ❱ Then stop pushing, stupid. ❰ because that's what he's been doing ever since he came back - pushing lalli farther and farther away. deliberately, it seemed like. at least most of the time. ❱
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It's not an incorrect accusation -- Emil felt like he had kept Lalli at arm's length before walking backwards as much as he could allow, but those moments of weakness probably felt like a rubber band snapping closer at times, then bouncing backwards. If Lalli wasn't feeling some obligation to him, close only as a means of taking care of his uselessness, then his actions would have definitely felt like a push. )
I never wanted to. ( And that's true. For as much as Emil thought he didn't deserve to continue to be friends with Lalli, he always wanted to be. A sigh escapes his lips, and he can feel some of the sowed anxiety leaving his body. Everything will be okay, no matter what, as long as Lalli isn't leaving him. ) I hated thinking about how much you went through during-- and I just made it worse afterwards. I'm sorry.
( It's been a while since he thought he had any right to engage contact with Lalli, and the sudden permission he's receiving is calling to him. One of his hands finds one of his friend's, giving it a tight squeeze before his thumb rubs absentmindedly. Emil's voice remains small, as his eyes the motion his hand is committing to. ) I just hate how much I disappointed you. We worked so much and trained for it all and -- you're the strongest person I know, so I should have known...
I just don't want to be so useless to you anymore.
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but then emil's talking about disappointment and being useless and lalli's eyes open sharply, staring the swede down even in this proximity. ❱ Stop, ❰ he says, quiet but non-negotiable. ❱ You were there because you were ready. Because you're stronger than you think, and. ❰ emil might be able to feel his brow knit a little as he stumbles, piecing together words. ❱ I would've been weaker if you weren't. ❰ he can't quite directly say that he's stronger when emil's around, so this will have to do. ❱
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The compliment is also one that's very weighty, which gives him more conflicting feelings. That sentiment feels like it should be impossible after what happened -- and this is neglecting to mention becoming undead, with an attempt to kill his friend on top of it -- but the idea of it being truth makes his chest swell a little. Lalli wouldn't just lie to him; thus this has to be how he feels. It leaves Emil with a certain sense of awe, simply because he knows he could say the same thing to his friend, but didn't expect it to be said to him. )
I believe you. ( Lalli's hand gets another squeeze. For as much as he's being reassured at the moment, he hasn't forgotten how this whole conversation started. ) But you have to know none of this is your fault either, right? I want you to believe me, too.
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but then things are turning back on him, and lalli finally breaks the contact between their heads (though not between their hands) to cast his gaze off to a moonlit patch of floor with a dubious sort of huff.
after a moment, ❱ I believe you don't think it is.
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( Emil tilts his head to try and find Lalli's gaze now that their heads aren't together. He can deal with overcoming his own shortcomings, even if it's currently a hard pill to swallow, but he can't let Lalli continue to think he has some fault in this mess.
Both of his hands hold onto the Finn's, now, as if he hopes the stronger grasp can put an emphasis his feelings. ) I'm responsible for what I did or didn't do. ( Which remains something that he finds some surrealism in; Emil has had to say and own a lot of things he's grown into. ) And because of that, you did what you had to. You could have been hurt or died otherwise.
( There's a certain desperation that enters his voice now, thinking back so vividly to those memories Lalli says aren't his own. Things weren't as bad as they could have been because Lalli is as strong as he is. Were the roles reversed, things would have been much worse. ) I don't blame you for anything, so please don't blame yourself.
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it's a fact that lalli can't let go of and emil won't let him hang onto.
other things emil wouldn't like: any sort of confession that 'you could've been hurt or died' wouldn't have been an outcome he would've been too upset about, at that point. better than trying to figure out how to live beyond that battle.
but it's fine. there's a compromise here, simple enough that even lalli can see it. ❱ Doesn't matter whose fault, does it? ❰ he lets emil catch his gaze now, not quite directly but more so than before. ❱ It's done now. ❰ isn't it? it feels like it is, but lalli might just be hopeful and stupid. ❱
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Maybe he still does, but that's not the argument he's being presented with at the moment. He wants to be stubborn and push it. To make sure Lalli knows with every cell of his brain that he didn't do anything wrong. But he's having a hard time letting go of his guilt immediately, so maybe this is exactly like that. Emil can't knock this down in one conversation. )
It's done. ( Accented with a slow and bobbing nod, as well as a final squeeze to Lalli's hand before he lets go. With one more sigh, expelling more of the residual anxiety in his lungs, it's easier to see how much of the tension is leaving his body slowly but surely. Emil feels his shoulders sag with the realization, body language tired but relieved. ) I'm glad. I've missed things just being normal.
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It's better, ❰ lalli agrees, nodding a little. it's as close to 'i've missed it, too' as he can really manage. maybe one day he'll be better at this. in the meantime, it's punctuated by a pretty robust yawn, which he wipes away with the back of his hand as if to deny the existence of it. part of him still feels like if he falls asleep, he'll wake up back into a reality where everything's still not okay. ❱
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No matter what they'd resolved, there are things that will still make it difficult. That shooting pain in his head that interrupts him in the middle of the night on occasion, or dreaming about the sensation of dying or his time as an undead wight. But if he can check off this anxiety, that's something.
At the moment, Lalli seems more tired if that large yawn is anything to go by. It's obvious enough that a small smile comes across Emil's face. )
Go ahead and lay back down. ( He'll also follow his own suggestion and stretch his legs sideways, scooting over to accommodate Lalli's crossed legs before he scoots his own under his blankets, pulling them over his body as much as he can while he goes flat. Emil won't be asleep for a while, but it'll solidify that feeling of comfort to look over soon and see his friend's curled body, knowing that things will be okay from here on. )
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instead, he's uncrossing his legs to carefully slide down under emil's blanket(s), on whichever side he's facing away from. he stops once they're parallel, reaching up to drag a pillow down to his new location, but he doesn't really use it yet. for now, his forehead finds the hollow between emil's shoulder blades, the fingertips of one hand resting beside it. whether this is for him or for emil, he's not entirely sure. ❱
God natt, ❰ he mutters, eyes finally closing for the first time since they first attempted to go to bed. ❱
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His breath slows to a stop suddenly, aware that where Lalli is placed, he'll be able to feel the exact moments of Emil's inhales and exhales. After a moment, his breath goes in again as he lets his muscles relax. This is something he couldn't ask for. Not so close to all of this turmoil coming to an end, and not even in general. But he wants it. There's something very soothing about even just a simple touch that says 'I'm here, you're here too.' For that, Emil is grateful. )
God natt. ( There's an inward curse; he should have said it back in Finnish instead of just parroting back what he'd heard. His next exhale is long and slow, but he's careful not to jostle himself too much. For as long as Lalli is willing to be there, he'd like to feel that safe, soft presence. )