Fox's Glade mix two parts jack with two bloodshot eyes

He waits quietly for Midar to leave, fighting the warm sting behind his eyes. But the other doesn't leave. He tenses as his lover draws nearer, swallowing back the urge to warn him away. The touch to his shoulder instantly shatters the last of his resistance to the stormy emotion gathering within him, and with a quiet huff the first tears break free. He curls tighter into himself, frustrated. He doesn't even know why he's crying — it's not as if Midar's words are the most cutting thing he's ever heard. And they hardly know one another; why does it matter if he walks away now? It shouldn't. But it does — and maybe Alarian can blame it for now on his sleepiness, his typical morning vulnerability, but later he'll wonder. Right now, though, all he can do is cry and wish he could just go back to sleep.