Lost Creek Hollow i know your style

was gonna be for another character but i got ramble-y whoops—hope you don’t mind

alamar spends the night tucked underneath some canopy in the hollow’s embrace—@Jaime not far, nestled on the other edge of the tree. the older of the two draws the short end of the stick on purpose, fluffy tail sticking out from underneath the evergreen. brushes of snow piling against it overnight.
it’s frigid when he wakes, rubbing at his eyes and jaws cracking into a yawn. sleepy blues glance off, seeing that jaime hasn’t moved. it’s an odd realization that he’s keeping to his word—alamar needs to keep his, too. a quiet huff escapes him, the coywolf reaches a paw forward, untangling it from the tucked posture underneath his chest and pokes him in the backside.  

i never mind <3

staying is even harder than he'd anticipated. each day he feels more like a burden, an annoyance. why had alamar even wanted him to stay? he doesn't want jaime, no more than he'd wanted him months ago, and it's plain for both of them to see. but it seems the older boy can't handle when things are reversed, when he is the one facing rejection. maybe he only persists because he misses being chased. jaime can't do that anymore, though. never again.
these are the thoughts consuming him as he lays tucked in his spot, silent but sleepless. he hadn't slept at all last night, not even for a moment. he's used to sleeping less than most, even feeling content with it, but the complete lack of sleep is jarring for the boy. he's never felt so exhausted. so when alamar pokes him, he's slow to react. he lifts his head sleepily, blinking bleary, bloodshot eyes. where normally he would react with playful offense, he finds only tired concern. huh? you ok?

alamar has his paw ready to prod again, if need be he’ll stretch out and press until jaime awakes—hopefully without a start. despite the sleep having eluding them both (alamar having slept, but a restless one that left him twitching throughout the night), the petite canine isn’t in the worst of moods.
the idea that sprung to disturb jaime, however, vanishes the moment the boy does rear his head. gaunt edges, bloodshot eyes.
i… yeah, he corrects, swallowing. want something to help you sleep… or… food?

alamar is okay. that's the only thing that truly registers at first, but after a moment he processes the offers laid before him, and his face warms a little. his head is so foggy, he doesn't even notice the distress, or realize how fucked he feels himself. you're sweet, he mumbles, yawning, guard truly down for the first time in months. this whole scene is another first for them, and this time he doesn't even know it. probably a good thing, or he'd get nervous and wreck it. he shifts, turning in a slow circle until he's facing alamar. i'm - i'm just glad you're here. another yawn, head drifting to rest on his paws. he is glad he's here, despite his bitter thoughts. he always has bitter thoughts; if he let them ruin everything, he'd never enjoy anything.

and you’re hilarious.
the jest dies, buried on his tongue. nose scrunched up, ears back, eyebrows tucked downard. a sharp splash of ice water poured over his face with jaime’s sudden praise that jolts alamar awake.
alamar’s never been sweet. he’s not like jaime, the kid who’d only wanted attention and a home to call his own, who was good and quiet and overall a sweetheart. he’s the monster, remember?
alamar wishes he kept facing away, instead of towards him. if only because it reminds him of all his faults, the flaws that scar and the sour that’s embedded to  his head. jaime deserves better. always has.
if they were friends, alamar would joke about how he’s getting too sappy—they’d laugh about it and move on. but they aren’t. he doesn’t know what they are, and he doesn’t want to find out either—not now. the answer scares him more than it ought to.
you should sleep, he settles with, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

the look on alamar's face completely tanks jaime's good mood, and for the briefest moment he feels bitter. but then it passes, and all he can feel is sad. he wishes things weren't like this. he wishes they were better. he wishes... i wish i could make you happy, the ghost of a whisper, an idle mournful thought drifting from him as he curls into himself again. he can't sleep, but he's too tired to tell alamar that. he's too tired to do anything.

he pretends not to hear it. it strikes a cord that he wants desperately to bury, before it rises to the surface. the cold truth that alamar will likely never be happy, no matter what anyone does, the denial that the a new leaf could shift things for him. alamar is stuck in the past, sinking deeper into the quicksand and not struggling to break free.
jaime curls up, and alamar shifts to curl back up himself, an empty space left where his forearm had been connecting them in some way. he bites the urge to cry.

eventually, somehow, he does sleep. it takes awhile. he doesn't know how long. dreams plague him when he finally slips into sleep, twisting shadowy nightmares filled with the thick metallic scent of blood and a sharp pain at the base of his spine. distress drives him toward the nearest source of comfort, even unconscious; eventually, the tailless boy ends up tucked against his companion, closer than they'd been the night he'd asked. the dreams fade, then, and finally his sleep becomes restful.

alamar stays awake even after jaime finally falls into a slumber, the pattering of his heart never ceases—even with the eventual shed of a few quiet tears as he tucks himself in further. ashamed, guilty, and overall, feeling broken in those silent moments.
those tears lead him to sleep, however, and it is far from restful too—the imagery of history creeping upon him, ensnaring him into a repetitive trap. a breath is shuttered, and then, eventually a cold abyss consumes him. but there, he drowns—an eerie noiseless fate.
his nose twitches first, then a paw, and then, his eyes blearily blink open. all he feels in the first moments of waking is warmth and comfort, it is an odd, foregin sensation that alamar finds himself craving more of. so in his half-asleep state, he leans closer.

he wakes to the feeling of alamar leaning into him, not quite registering their closeness at first. he's still hazy, exhausted and half-asleep, and the world is a blur to him. it takes a few moments for it to all set in. when he realizes what the warmth against him is, his breath hitches. he goes still, eyes squeezing shut as he soaks in the touch for as long as he can. his heart is beating fast now. then a sudden impulse grips him, an ill-advised urge he finds himself following regardless. he shifts delicately, slowly reaching over to plant a soft kiss on alamar's forehead. he knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it.

blue eyes close again, head kept leaned across his paws—a desire to drift in the moment of peace lingers for a long moment, stretching beyond a hike in the afternoon sun. the touch startles him in a strange way—unexpected, yet there is no jolt, no reaction to it as if he’s been shot. just a weak mumble, a flick of his paw, and the slow blink of his eyes reopening.
jaime?  

alamar's eyes open, and immediately jaime feels himself flushing, ears tilting back slightly. but the reaction he half-expects never comes, and instead he hears his name. it seems... okay, for the moment. he offers a faint, shy smile, intent on going along with it and keeping things that way. exhaustion is still written into his features, eyes still a little red, but there's a shining hint of hopefulness to his expression that hasn't been there in some time. hi, it's all he can think of, but hopefully it's good enough for now.

his mind foggy, but the realization comes slow—sneaking up on him, alamar feels the heat rise to his cheeks, all the way up to his ears. he glances off to the side, before he looks back to jaime. a smile is curled across his face, something alamar feels like he hasn’t seen in a long time. he didn’t realize it’s worth until it was gone.
... hey, he echoes a greeting, a paw smushes overtop one side of alamar’s muzzle.

he settles his own head on his paws, watching alamar with soft ocean eyes. he doesn't want to move just yet, but... do you want to... um, go for a walk together? when we get up, the words are quiet, hopeful. he likes walks; it's time to think, time to talk, to have someone's full attention. he's not sure he's ever had that opportunity with alamar. usually they're looking for something, or split up to do separate things.

jaime must be growing confident in taking risks; not that alamar minds, they spoke about changing how things... were. it is just new, different, leaves alamar fluttery.
yeah, we can do that. a walk without true purpose sounds nice. alamar so used to seeking out excuses that he's long failed to see he doesn't need them.

his heart skips when alamar agrees, but he tries not to let his pleasure show too much. he doesn't want to be overbearing, though it likely shows anyway in the brief broadening of his smile before it disappears into a shy tightening of his mouth, an attempt at hiding it. teal eyes brighten, then drop to the side. awesome. i mean, uh, that sounds good. let me know when you're... ready? he sounds too eager, doesn't he? his gaze flicks back up to alamar, nervously checking his reaction. sometimes he wishes his companion wasn't so... hot and vaguely intimidating.

underneath the paw he hides, too, and it works with jaime seeming non-wiser to any emotion except the typical brood of alamar. his eyes watch fascinated by the differing expressions that cross his face; one wide sweep of a grin that shows the hints of teeth before it eases into a sheepish smile, tucked yet unable to hide completely.
hmm, alamar agrees in casual fashion, yet makes no move to get to his feet this second. the day just began, and he’s content to soak in these moments of peace while he is able.