[ Tidus doesn't disturb or interrupt him, doesn't make any moves to. This is all he can do to be there for Inigo, knows it's partially his own fault for even speaking about his mother. Was it wrong, though? To push it down, avoid tears just for the sake of avoiding them? Tidus doesn't question, doesn't think; he just waits for the storm to pass, for the ease of the trembling figure he holds onto.
For when he looks up at him, looking back with a soft expression.
--Blinking, however, when the question comes, a request he wouldn't expect right now: with Inigo's face blotchy and red, the signs of a wave of crying that doesn't seem quite passed.
But they talked, he promised, they said, and for the hesitations he has, Tidus shifts himself some to try and better match Inigo's height, lightly pushing against his upper shoulder so he lean in his head, meet the side of his mouth with a kiss, one that next leads onto them.
Slowly, chaste. Not there to be the one to set the pace, to deepen it, to even linger on lips unless Inigo draws him back. He peppers gently kisses onto his wet cheeks, the taste of salt left with him; whispered now and then between them: ] You're fine, it's gonna be fine...
[ And he brushes with a thumb below an eye, to wipe at the trail of tears, clean up some of its path. ]
no subject
For when he looks up at him, looking back with a soft expression.
--Blinking, however, when the question comes, a request he wouldn't expect right now: with Inigo's face blotchy and red, the signs of a wave of crying that doesn't seem quite passed.
But they talked, he promised, they said, and for the hesitations he has, Tidus shifts himself some to try and better match Inigo's height, lightly pushing against his upper shoulder so he lean in his head, meet the side of his mouth with a kiss, one that next leads onto them.
Slowly, chaste. Not there to be the one to set the pace, to deepen it, to even linger on lips unless Inigo draws him back. He peppers gently kisses onto his wet cheeks, the taste of salt left with him; whispered now and then between them: ] You're fine, it's gonna be fine...
[ And he brushes with a thumb below an eye, to wipe at the trail of tears, clean up some of its path. ]