( i love you, and his expression doesn't change much, but his insides are different explosions of disgust and rage and self-hate and love and love and love. somewhere along the line, he managed to convince axel he was somehow worthwhile to love -- some loathsome monster, some thing, some it, some pile of nothing so useless it can't even find the merit to be garbage. andrew minyard is simply transparent. not entirely of this world, not entirely reachable, not someone to be fucked with but neither someone be around, or a part of. having axel's love reminds him of this, the tease at the tip of his tongue, you're in love with nothing or you'd have better luck loving a wall, because at least you could fuck it.
he doesn't say any of this. around axel, andrew doesn't feel so transparent anymore, so temporary, so fleeting to everyone and everything. he feels alive. he feels scared. he feels like he's dying, too, in a way that's different from past twelve years of filler.
instead, he cups his free hand at the bottom of axel's chin, a defined roughness to the motion. his cheek squish where andrew digs his fingers into them, but his wounded hand doesn't leave axel's hold, only temporarily put aside. )
Ask me if I'll ever let you starve. ( axel doesn't like following orders, so andrew shakes his head for him, side to side. ) No. Never.
( i'll slit my own throat into a paper cup before you go hungry. i'll pluck my fingers until i have no feeling left. i'll bleed out, every day and every night, to keep you alive. your life will always be more than mine.
he releases his tight hold a second later, shoving his wounded hand out again. take care of him, or don't. he doesn't matter. )
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he doesn't say any of this. around axel, andrew doesn't feel so transparent anymore, so temporary, so fleeting to everyone and everything. he feels alive. he feels scared. he feels like he's dying, too, in a way that's different from past twelve years of filler.
instead, he cups his free hand at the bottom of axel's chin, a defined roughness to the motion. his cheek squish where andrew digs his fingers into them, but his wounded hand doesn't leave axel's hold, only temporarily put aside. )
Ask me if I'll ever let you starve. ( axel doesn't like following orders, so andrew shakes his head for him, side to side. ) No. Never.
( i'll slit my own throat into a paper cup before you go hungry. i'll pluck my fingers until i have no feeling left. i'll bleed out, every day and every night, to keep you alive. your life will always be more than mine.
he releases his tight hold a second later, shoving his wounded hand out again. take care of him, or don't. he doesn't matter. )