[ There is nothing to apologize for. Let alone for being stubborn about that. Because, if anything, it's what Inigo needs. Someone who won't let him push aside all his own desires for what he deems to be the greater good. Someone who will indulge Inigo in what he wants, for once - having a father actually by his side. One that can be relied on, no matter what. Like a comfortable foundation for Inigo to stand on, free from insecurities or worries. Something that feels like it'll always be there, even when things are so uncertain here on the train, each and every single day.
It leaves the boy staring at him for a moment more, even after Roland lets go of him in the hug, instead putting those hands on his shoulders. There's something hesitant about it, like even now, Inigo is still having trouble actually ripping himself away from the other for a moment to go seek out his mother. Not that he doesn't want to see her, but -- it's just hard when your heart wishes to be everywhere at once, be with everyone all at once. ]
.. okay. [ Inigo finally says, slowly, convincing himself that it's fine, he can just talk more with Roland later. That right now, he mostly just really needs to make sure his mother is doing alright in a place as overwhelming as this.
(And maybe he needs to see her too, after the years and years and years he spent longing for nothing more than for his mother to come back and tell him everything would be okay.)
But as he takes a step backwards, starts walking, Inigo does stop for another moment.
He looks back at Roland, like there's a million things he wants to say.
But only one comes out. ]
I.. I love you, father.
[ He doesn't linger after saying it. Instead Inigo quickly lets his feet speed up to a jog, quickly starting to move through the train to find the familiar head of pink hair. ]
[ Inigo is long gone when Roland utters such words to himself, in the bustle of the library, passengers seated and minding their own business. Tucked away by the corner, Roland is able to compose himself fully, but there's a spirit that lingers, different from the charged energy he lends Inigo before sending him off. Suddenly, the smile on his lips drops, and his brows meet in the middle. Without another word out of him, Roland walks over to the ICP assigned to the library car and inserts his ticket in.
He doesn't miss a beat. The screen flashes to life, and his fingers know where to scroll, what to press. For once, Roland rushes to type before the sentiment leaves him completely. It had to be done. He had to make sure.
As soon as the message disappears into the void of the feedback terminal, he closes his eyes for another deep breath before removing his ticket from its slot, tucking it back into his pockets, and walking out of the Library. ]
no subject
It leaves the boy staring at him for a moment more, even after Roland lets go of him in the hug, instead putting those hands on his shoulders. There's something hesitant about it, like even now, Inigo is still having trouble actually ripping himself away from the other for a moment to go seek out his mother. Not that he doesn't want to see her, but -- it's just hard when your heart wishes to be everywhere at once, be with everyone all at once. ]
.. okay. [ Inigo finally says, slowly, convincing himself that it's fine, he can just talk more with Roland later. That right now, he mostly just really needs to make sure his mother is doing alright in a place as overwhelming as this.
(And maybe he needs to see her too, after the years and years and years he spent longing for nothing more than for his mother to come back and tell him everything would be okay.)
But as he takes a step backwards, starts walking, Inigo does stop for another moment.
He looks back at Roland, like there's a million things he wants to say.
But only one comes out. ]
I.. I love you, father.
[ He doesn't linger after saying it. Instead Inigo quickly lets his feet speed up to a jog, quickly starting to move through the train to find the familiar head of pink hair. ]
no subject
[ Inigo is long gone when Roland utters such words to himself, in the bustle of the library, passengers seated and minding their own business. Tucked away by the corner, Roland is able to compose himself fully, but there's a spirit that lingers, different from the charged energy he lends Inigo before sending him off. Suddenly, the smile on his lips drops, and his brows meet in the middle. Without another word out of him, Roland walks over to the ICP assigned to the library car and inserts his ticket in.
He doesn't miss a beat. The screen flashes to life, and his fingers know where to scroll, what to press. For once, Roland rushes to type before the sentiment leaves him completely. It had to be done. He had to make sure.
As soon as the message disappears into the void of the feedback terminal, he closes his eyes for another deep breath before removing his ticket from its slot, tucking it back into his pockets, and walking out of the Library. ]