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Apprehensive, huh.

Inigo doesn't even blame Blue. He gets it. It doesn't make it hurt any less, but he gets it. It does make him wish that he wasn't crying, though. If he wasn't crying, it would have been way easier to respond to this. Not in the sense that it would hurt less, but he thinks he would have been able to package it all a little neater for her. It would have been easier to hide his own feelings, to do whatever is best for her and make sure she at least doesn't end up hating this entire conversation, or her decision to gift him the coat.

It's harder to hide everything behind a smile though when he's already crying. But he tries. ]

It's fine. [ He swallows. His throat feels so thick with emotion and wet with tears, but he tries to fight it. It's not the first hill he's ever struggled to walk up. ] If you want to give me that, then of course I will graciously accept whatever you wish to share. If it's more comfortable for you to not share any of it, then that's fine too. I wouldn't--

[ He falters, like he's tripping up that hill, but he can't stop now. He sniffs, wipes his face a little harder this time. Managing to stop the tears, even if his eyes are still red from crying. ]

I don't wish to push you along any path you're not comfortable with.

[ Because she already has someone so important to share it with. How could he then dare to push her along, or to take anything that isn't his?

Blue has her lover. Cat could have Fang Duobing, much more suitable for him, someone who already has Cat's affection. And Inigo--

Inigo can go back to being what he was always meant to be. A version that was never meant to exist of a much better boy. ]

Sorry for going about this all wrong. [ He bends his head, almost lowering it into a bow. ] And for misunderstanding your gift.

[Blue knows a withdrawing when she hears one, proficient as she is at doing the same herself. Like tendrils extended from a vine, having met an obstacle, curling back defensively. He mistakes a rejection of his offer as a rejection of him, despite how carefully she tried to skirt the edge of that pitfall. Just because she doesn't want to define herself through him. As if these pieces of herself are any less precious.]

...You still let go of things too quickly.

[She picks up one of the two cups she's been preparing, tea warming the ceramic and her fingers in turn as she carries it over to him. Then she's taking him by the hands, ignoring his bowed head to press the cup against his fingers and folding her own around them for a brief moment to ensure his grip.]

If I didn't want you to have it, I wouldn't have offered. Don't act now like you've lost your drive to know me. You'll injure my pride.

[Or worse. Does he understand, that this is a struggle for her too? She is so practiced at pretend that being authentic is such a burden. There are any number of things she could say to soothe his tears and appease him, but that wouldn't be her. And she wants to be known, even if only a little by this boy whose loneliness resonates with hers.]

The name I chose for myself is Blue, like the color. [Like his hair, and the coat she made for him.] If it's only the two of us here and no one else, you can use it--but take care with it. I don't have many things that are mine.

[ There's no resistance to the way she puts the cup into his hands. Even though the boy doesn't raise his face to look at her, it's easy enough to manipulate his hands, and when she ensures his grip around the cup, he keeps it like that, not dropping it onto the floor.

It's only when she mentions her name that he slowly looks up at her. Despite the way he managed to stop his tears a moment ago - more or less, anyway - they seem to be slightly returning in this moment. They're not intense enough to actually roll down his cheeks, but his eyes look awfully met when his gaze crosses hers. ]

.. thank you. [ Despite the fact that the thanks sounds genuine, there's something shaky about it too. Like Inigo still hasn't shaken everything off from a moment ago.

And how could he? The feeling that he's undesirable, that he isn't meant to be - that's a difficult thought to shake off after it has been reinforced so many times over the years, in all the years since his mother died. Especially when it's so easy to topple off the tower you try to build to escape that trench. Especially when it's so uncertain what she wants or means here - not wanting to share, yet still sharing.

Inigo is too socially anxious to not feel terrified in front of a border that isn't clearly defined.

It leaves him quiet after the thanks. He doesn't even sip his tea - he just holds the cup, his hand shaking slightly. ]

It's just.. [ He tries to explain himself in turn, knowing that she's sharing something with him here that she doesn't share with most, that this is the least he can do, but it's so hard.

Especially when his problem here lies within speaking in the first place. Within constantly stumbling over his own words and wishing he never told them to her.

What if he says the wrong thing all over again? ]

I don't-- I don't want to be a bother to you. I feel like I am constantly saying the wrong things, and that it's just making everything worse, and I-- I know everyone else doesn't do that. I don't want to be the one person who hurts you. [ He swallows. ] I want to be someone who's good to you.

[He wants to be good to her... As if she ever deserved such a thing from him. How could she, when she brings him to tears like this with her sharpness? It's not in her nature and not what he wants apparently, but he deserves the attempt at something more gentle than this. He deserves to know the shape of her, framed in a way that he can comprehend... If she can manage that much.]

You are. You are good to me. Good for me.

[The words come haltingly, as she thinks to add more. To be clearer with him.]

You may not want it, but the power to hurt me is a privilege. You know me in ways that very few others ever will, and that... holds significance. To me.

[She reaches up to his face, brushing back the hair that frames it. Her own cup of tea sits abandoned on the counter.]

I've told you before that fireflies blink their soft light into the darkness. It is... very dark here for me--overwhelmingly, at times. And your brightness warms me greatly. You don't need to worry yourself over how good you are to me. It was never a question in my mind.

[ Blue is hitting on a good point. The main point that Inigo keeps tripping over in his mind, anyway. Not even just in this situation, but in all situations. The difference between how he perceives himself and how others perceive him - and the way he always assumes the former is the same as the latter.

It makes words like It was never a question in my mind difficult to process, but they might help-- in the long term. Slowly, bit by bit.

Even now, as he looks at her while she cups his face like that, his cheeks still kind of wet. ]

You're sure of that?

[ It's not a rejection, even if it's kind of an awkward, scared thing to ask on Inigo's part. But this is his process of acceptance. Approaching it slowly, terrified of getting something wrong. He's doing his best. ]

I want to make the world brighter for you. Even just a little bit.

[Such a small timid thing he is, even as he stands over her. It feels like it should be so easy for her to lift him up, cupped in her hands. A small mouse, maybe a bird, trembling as she brushes her thumb over its head.]

[But he is somehow a young man, and trembling still. She smiles wanly at him, feeling her own urge to approach this slowly and with caution, despite the confidence she typically portrays.]

Shall I say it for you again? You are good to me, Inigo. I am the midnight sky, and you are the starlight that glows within me. You are... as precious as that abalone that you found on the shore.

[She stops there, the words drawing short on her lips. It feels like too much, to speak so plainly of something that touched her in ways she can't fully describe. For a moment, she worries (again, absurdly) if he might draw back from her declaration. Strong emotion has rarely been a boon to her at any point in her life--a live wire lying bare across her soul, and she stands all but ready to recoil at the slightly brush of pain. But he claims that this is what he wants... The truth of her, in all of its rawness and enormity.]

[ He quietly listens to her.

But Inigo is certainly not frozen. His hand reaches up to meet the spot where her hand is brushing the hair at the side of his face, just so his hand can lightly touch her own, giving them a physical connection - especially when she speaks of the abalone.

It's still scary, accepting that you mean a lot to someone. But what's even scarier is the idea of Blue feeling bad, just because Inigo is too insecure to accept it.

So he inhales. He tries to find some courage.

And - despite the way his face still definitely looks like he's been crying just now - he smiles at her. ]

I would give you it again. [ That shell. ] As many times as I could.

[ It may have been more significant for her than for him, but the hindsight of it all, this new knowledge - it does give it an added weight to Inigo. Especially because he knows how much it means to her.

More people should do things for Blue that mean so much for her. ]

You're.. so important to me. I hope you know that. I want to be your starlight.

[Will you live for me, then? she wants to ask, but the moment is too nice to ruin with the answer she knows he'll give. He promises her starlight, but his glow is only meant for one season. He can't help it; it's his nature. And it's hers to be reserved with her belief.]

[Still, she smiles with his touch, tucks a lock of hair behind his ear, then entwines her fingers with the ones resting over them. She lowers both hands down, lingering with that connection for a few seconds longer.]

I'll allow it. For however long you like.

Thank you.

[ Thankfully Inigo is in far too good a mood to realize the nuance in those words, so it doesn't ruin his mood in the slightest. Instead the young man just seems to bask in the physical contact and kindness she's giving him in the moment, smiling so sweetly at her. ]

And I'm going to wear that coat a lot. Just so you know.

[Just so she knows, he says. Her smile pulls at the corner instinctively, twisting her lips into a smirk that she's well known for. Her firefly is so delicate, and yet so full of humor. As if she hadn't hoped he would wear it always.]

I would hope so. That is the point of it.

[The buttons were made just for him, after all. It would be a disappointment to her if he stashed it away somewhere.]

I'll look forward to seeing it often this winter.

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