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At times like this, Chaos often finds his heart is at war with his pride.

He's too afraid to be comfortable with looking weak, or even seeming it, but when everything is silent and the air is heavy with sex and sweat and afterglow, he is weak and he knows it. Those are the moments when his facade simply shatters and he can't hide that self he keeps locked away inside him any more, the moments that he silently breaks and the only thing that keeps him from feeling lost and abandoned is the arms that hold him and refuse to let go, no matter how much he may try to protest. And protest he does, because this is not the side of him he wants anyone to see - frightened, lonely, uncertain, all the feelings that he can't allow himself to feel if he wants to make everyone think he's stronger than he is.

It is not a side of himself he's proud of, and he thinks that's why Felt takes so much pleasure in breaking his mask down.

The disgust at his own weakness is like a bitter poison on the back of his tongue, but he swallows it down and buries his face in Felt's hair, breathing in the scent that is quintessentially him - the faintest hint of Huffin flowers, damp fresh earth, and something pure and clear he can never quite name but privately imagines to be the aroma of a bright, cheerful sunbeam, it surrounds him and soothes him and makes him feel like it might be okay to simply be for a little while. No worrying about weakness or strength, about the world outside these walls, about the life they will both have to return to all too soon. Just breathe, just relax, and just...be.

Felt murmurs wordlessly as Chaos trembles, stirs enough to look up at him and blinks a little hazily, tightening his hold. "...Chaos?"

"What," Chaos says a little too quickly, not even a question, and a brief hint of sourness at himself crosses his face. "I was nearly asleep--" He knows Felt will see through the lie, and he feels nervous as he awaits the inevitable response.

"Oh...I'm sorry." Felt smiles easily enough, but the concern in his eyes is all too evident, and Chaos can't bring himself to look at it. "I'll shut up now...I was just going to ask if you mind if we stay like this."

If you mind if I hold you, is what he really means.

Chaos sighs, feeling a thread of tension dissipate from his shoulders despite everything, and closes his eyes. "You'd continue even if I told you to stop, wouldn't you?"

"Yes." Felt's smile is more genuine now, and he settles back down, tucking his head against Chaos' shoulder once more and making himself comfortable. "...Good night, Chaos."

Chaos feels an upwelling of grateful emotion squeeze at his throat, choking away his voice, and he can only nod, but he knows that's answer enough - that Felt knows exactly what he feels right now.

Somehow, that makes it far easier to fall asleep than usual.