#Broken Grumpmom still a bit broken more news at 11

[grumpy-limsan-customs-cat]

"Were you going to ever tell me?" or "May I come with you?" (Alternatively, "Just be careful, okay?") For Luvshan of course! But with whomever of your choosing.

Variety of writing prompts

Even when visits from Luvshan's elusive companion had always been more than welcome, at times Jikhaa chose the worst of timings for them. Not that the youth was ever at fault for wandering through the door during the late hours - it was unavoidable with the long hours the clinic stayed open, full of people looking for care.

No, it was Luvshan's fault alone, for being found in the situation that he was. Tired, hunched over his desk like a barely awake husk of a man, empty bottles of wine and the uncomfortable, sweet stench of fogweed surrounding him. Even through the haze of both, the shame managed to rear its ugly head, and Luvshan's eyes were unable to lift to meet Jikhaa's - the gaze as distant and unfocused as always, but always seeing through to the things the old Xaela desperately wished to hide.

"...Were you ever going to tell me?"

The voice was soft, a barely there whisper with no ill intent or blame, but the hint of concern stabbed Luvshan all the same. It made him curl more into himself, hiding his shame under a self-deprecating sneer.

"Tell you...what? About this? My daily life?"

It's none of your business.

The words passed his mind and lingered on his lips, but they were never uttered. Even without them Luvshan could sense the shift on the other Xaela - the slightly lowered gaze, the barely there tension on his jaw. Not from disappointment, not from anger, but from something more tender.

The silence lingered for a while, awkward but stubborn, before Luvshan could feel another change before his desk.

"...I'm still here."

Another whisper, but heavy in determination, and even heavier in meaning.

Resolution, and a plea.