CHAPTER 12: WHAT'S BECOME OF US

– POV: LYRE –

(ROLEPLAYERS: VEN, TEA)

(ADAPTATION: VEN)

It's been a couple hours since... all that.

Staring at the far wall, Lyre lies on his side on the floor, curled into a half-ball, back to Casper, who’s also taken up residence there.

He's long since re-assembled his clothes, pulled the shirt back on and all of that, but he still feels decidedly vulnerable. His arms are hugged tight, tight, tight around his chest.

He wants to feel like someone is holding him. Desperately, desperately –

"Hey," Casper blurts out from behind him, voice slightly off-kilter. The voice cuts through his thoughts, and he jolts, tail whipping across the floor as it fluffs up. Lyre sits up abruptly, head twisting to look at the ghost with wide eyes as though he's just said they're going to be attacked.

A few heartbeats pass.

"... Hi," Lyre says. Very quietly.

Casper sits up, too. Considers Lyre for a few moments, seemingly – nervously, uneasily, almost. That’s a new look on him.

"Uhm," The ghost says. "What's, uh. What's up, man..."

Lyre is honestly exhausted from the whole – sleepwalk, crying his eyes out, pouring out his emotions – uh. All of it? And so he feels a little too honest. So he twists to face Casper, scoots a little closer until he's face-to-face with the ghost, and pauses.

He sits down on his knees and leans forward on palms set in front of him on the ground, tail curling up. He looks directly into Casper's eyes – he's starting to get better at that, actually, at least when it's Casper – and then blinks.

". . ."

Lyre is silent at first. It's like – someone has stolen his voice, maybe? It's like he doesn't know what to say, or something. But he spoke earlier, so – yeah. Yeah, he's just having a bit of trouble figuring out what to say. Still, he leans forward – head inclining slightly.

Casper’s face flushes deep blue.

If they were both flesh and blood, their foreheads would have bumped together.

"Not a lot. Just ... thinking."

Lyre pulls back and smiles at Casper warmly. With the way his eyes shine he also looks (and feels) like he might start crying again at any second.

"Just thinking?" Casper echoes, with a touch of amusement. "Ah, well. I guess I've been thinking, too." Lyre tilts his head at Casper.

Then processing the deep blue spreading over Casper's face, Lyre blinks, and feels his own face heat up, dark pink spreading over his cheeks. He ducks his head – tired confidence can only do so much for him. He laughs quietly, awkwardly.

"Sorry – sorry, about that. I just ... Yeah," He clears his throat. "You've been thinking too, huh?" Lyre looks back to Casper now, blinking, the warmth still covering his face. He doubts it will be leaving anytime soon, even if the flush fades.

"Thinking … About ... ?"

"Why are you sorry," Casper says, quickly. "I liked that." Then, he blinks. Oh, there it is. Lyre's eyes widen, and the shade of pink on his cheeks deepens considerably. Casper clears his throat, tugging at his collar absentmindedly.

"... Uhm. You, mainly." The ghost then answers Lyre’s question, properly.

"Oh, okay, that's – good ... that you, uh ..." His head feels like it's spinning, and yet he doesn't want it to stop. He clears his throat. "I've been thinking about you. Too. I've been thinking about, uh. Us." Us? When did it become an us, Lyre? He swallows. "Uhm, and everything."

Lyre doesn't dare to look away, either. His tail does curl up around him, though, as he absentmindedly fidgets.

"Us..." Casper echoes breathlessly. The shade of blue on his cheeks somehow gets deeper.

Lyre jolts when Casper points out us – in his phrasing. He looks at Casper in alarm, and almost goes to apologize when he sees the blue has deepened in color. Lyre blinks. A flushed face usually means embarrassment, right? But Lyre has been feeling it, himself, and he's wondering if that's not always the case.

Maybe, here, it's a good thing. He decides to go with that conclusion for now. But then Casper is asking what he thought about, and Lyre is kind of feeling like curling up in a ball out of embarrassment anyway.

"I, I didn't know there –" A pause. Audible. Then … "Can you tell me, what you thought about?" Casper asks quietly, leaning forward a little.

"... Uhm, well," Lyre stammers. "I guess I thought a lot about what we said. To each other," He murmurs. Lyre's hands twitch. He wants to hold, and be held, even though that's not possible, with Casper.

You can have me.

"... I meant all of it," Lyre says suddenly. "I really did. Honest, promise."

"Oh, good," Casper blurts out. "I, I meant it too. All of it. I was going to tell you, I –" He cuts himself off, and stares deep into Lyre’s eyes. Lyre finds that he no longer minds the eye contact much. Casper’s eyes, however blank, are pretty.

"... I like, us," The ghost says. "I – don't know what it means, yet. I..." He wrings his hands together. "I guess, ah. Would you want to figure that out? With me?"

There's a momentary silence. And then Lyre, feeling a wave of relief wash over him, smiles warmly.

"Of course. I'd love to. Because –" He hesitates. It's still a little scary, but – Lyre reaches out, and places a hand over Casper's chest, where the ghost's heart would be. "I love you."

God, it feels so nice to say, though. Lyre's tail curls up again, like a happy cat's. He feels warm. Casper’s face gets bluer, too.

"Oh, Lyre. I love you too," Casper says, the beginnings of that mildly uncanny grin playing at his face. "I love you, too."

The ghost leans forward, a little. Lyre feels his hand become slightly engulfed by the coldness of his intangible form. Not that he minds it that much, the mist slipping through his fingers – to feel anything at all is a good reminder that Casper is real and he didn't just dream him up.

And Lyre is almost content to sit there in silence, listening, smiling, for a while. Maybe it wouldn't bother him to just ... stay ... like this. For ... a long time – who knows how long, even ...

"Yeah," He says, quietly. There's a pause as he thinks.

Then he breathes in.

"... Well. I. Uhm, I've never –" Lyre ducks his head, face flushing again. "It's never been an us for me, with anyone, before, so I don't know how this works. And you're ..." A ghost, so you're probably not going to know either, Lyre doesn't say, it'd probably be rude. "Uhm. Do you know anything? About ... that?"

"I've never been an us with anyone," Casper murmurs. "I don't, ehm. I don't remember much about that stuff, either. There's probably a huge gap in my memory, for that."

He's awfully close to Lyre, right now. Casper doesn't pull back. Lyre doesn’t really want him to.

That makes two of us, then, Lyre thinks. We're both brand new to this. And he realizes, too, how close they are, but it doesn't feel like enough. Lyre lowers his hand but scoots closer. Closer, still. Is too close even in either of their vocabularies, right now?

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At this rate Casper could phase through him and stay there and Lyre genuinely wouldn't mind, if it meant being closer.

"... This is new, to me," The ghost says, as if to really hammer it in. "But – ah. I don't mind, that. You're lovely," He smiles. It's a sickly sweet looking thing. Lyre doesn’t mind it at all. "You're more than lovely."

"... Thank you," Lyre says, face flushing again. "You're –" Lyre searches for the right word. "– Well you're just kind of amazing." Maybe a little underwhelming, but he's trying his best. He smiles again.

"Kind of amazing?" He echoes, a smile cracking on his face. Casper practically giggles. "You think I'm kind of amazing?"

He tilts his head. Lyre blinks.

"You're so silly."

Silly? He's ... silly? ... Lyre's face flushes dark pink. He laughs nervously, rubbing at the back of his neck with a hand. He feels a little overheated, his tail fur fluffing up not helping the problem.

"You are!" Lyre bursts out. And then – "Okay, maybe remove the kind of," He murmurs, smiling at Casper with embarrassment. He feels a little light-headed. "How about this: you're really amazing," he says, gesturing widely. "Like, really!" God, he feels giddy.

"I see we've upgraded," Casper says, and he physically leans in as much as he can. Casper would literally phase through him, at this point. But if the ghost phases through him a little, who cares? Lyre’s been kind of wondering what that would feel like, anyway – God, you can't be thinking that. He blinks.

Casper is so, so, so close. They're as face-to-face as they can get, right now.

"Well, that's nice. How about this – I think you're really amazing, too."

He grins, wide.

"Super, even."

"Oh –" Lyre's eyes get all wide and his pupils get round as Casper echoes back his sentiments to him, perhaps even more intensely. Then he bursts out into a little shower of giddy laughter, shoulders shaking as a hand shoots up to hover over his mouth.

"Thank you!" He manages between giggles.

"Mm," Casper hums, raising both his arms and 'resting' them on Lyre's shoulders, intertwining. It's an absurdly absent-minded motion. Lyre is still laughing quietly when this happens – mist settling around his neck. Lyre blinks, and the laughter trails off, and he looks into Casper's own white, white eyes, and – Lyre's pupils expand again, like a cat's.

There's a moment where Casper just looks at him, where Lyre just looks back, the eye contact less painful, if it’s Casper, if it’s Casper. And Casper pauses, before blurting out –

"You have really nice eyes."

Oh … oh.

"... You too," Lyre says, somewhat absent-mindedly, but honestly.

"You really think so?" Casper says softly, tilting his head as he does so. "You're a sweetheart."

At this, Lyre's face turns dark, dark pink, immediately. He breathes in sharply and for a second it sounds like he might just. Start crying. But he doesn't! So, win? Probably ... ? With the smile that breaks onto his face, likely!

"Thank you," He mumbles, sounding almost a little delirious. He feels a little delirious. Lyre isn't sure what to do with all of these – feelings, with bad ones he usually bottles them up, but these ones? They're so, so good.

He doesn't want to hide them. They're too good. So he lets them show, grinning wide. Lyre looks at Casper, and Casper looks at Lyre …

"You're so good to me," Casper murmurs. "You're so nice, to me. How'd I get so lucky."

There it is. That look again, in Casper's eyes. Hungry. Yes, that was the feeling. Lyre has put a name to it. Because he feels it too – but there's some part of him that knows that for the ghost, it's much more intense, perhaps more than Lyre will ever feel ... but that's okay.

Lyre feels different things, in different ways, that's all. More of a fondness, and more of a desperation, a want to carve a hole into Casper's chest and curl up inside and be safe there. It's different, yet the same. Different, yet ...

"I think we both got lucky," Lyre murmurs. "I'm glad I went on that walk."

"I'm glad I got lost," Casper finally admits. And it's hushed, like it's a forbidden thing to say. Like it's, somehow, uniquely vulnerable. "I'd get lost over and over again if it meant that you'd find me." He whispers when he says that.

"Would you?" He asks, sickly sweet.

There's a moment where his heart skips a beat. Where the adrenaline rises in his blood in a response akin to fear but – not. Lyre knows that he's safe. Trusts, that he's safe, with Casper. Why wouldn't he be? There's no reason to be scared of anything, when they're together.

That rush, that thrill – within safety, complete safety – is ... addicting. Lyre stares Casper in those wide, white eyes, that stare back at him emptily, yet expectantly, and Lyre feels a chill run down his spine, and he doesn't mind it.

"I would," Lyre says. "I would, I promise."

"I know you would," Casper murmurs, like he's delirious. The ghost’s arms, hands, shift from Lyre's shoulders down to his waist. Holding it, holding him.

To be entirely honest he half doesn't know what's happening at first he's so enamored with Casper's eyes. But then he feels the mist lift, and shift, and – oh ... really? Lyre's eyes go round and wide and he inhales sharply, feeling thin fur on the back of his neck stand on end.

"I know you will." Casper’s voice is low. And Lyre …

He swallows. Okay, Lyre. It's fine. You're okay. You're safe. And he answers –

"Yeah."

Lyre wants to be held, to be wanted, to be ... had. Even if physical touch wasn't entirely an option, It would be – enough, for the attempt to be made, to be surrounded by Casper's presence ...

He shifts closer, and breaks eye contact, but only to duck.

If he could, Lyre would press himself entirely against Casper. But the rules of ghost-ism didn't work that way, and so he has to mime, and so he ends up phasing into Casper's core, just a little bit. Holding his head beneath the ghost's chin, curling his body against Casper's chest. There's a low rumbling in his own.

The ghost draws in a shuddering breath.

"I don't ever want to leave," Lyre murmurs. "I'll be here. With you."

"Oh, darling," Casper says. "I know," He says. "You will." As Lyre practically curls into him, Casper shifts to 'wrap' his arms around him. It’s chilling.

It's cold. It's so cold, but Lyre is warm. He is so, so warm. His heart is overflowing with it, with emotion, with love. It's all he feels, in that moment – a daze, a haze of affection and honey-sweet words and love.

… The rumbling gets louder. Lyre is purring.

He makes himself smaller, curls against Casper further, although he can't quite lean. Letting himself be at the complete mercy of a ghost he barely knows and yet knows so, so well.

When he said, you can have me – he meant it.