After a talk about a week and a half ago, Jono was trying this new thing where he didn't hide his face in the safety and comfort of his own home. Well, Hannibal's home. But at this point, really, the only thing that made it not also his home was paperwork.
Some days, it worked out well enough.
Some days, he woke up and, like today, it was early enough in the day that he could see the reflection of his flames dancing back at him from the full-length mirror across the bedroom. Christ, he hated that mirror with a bloody passion. He hated all mirrors, really. That much hadn't changed a hell of a lot over the years.
That wasn't going to stop him from slipping out of bed today, to go and look at the wreck of his face, trying to nerve himself up to... something. Maybe going outside today. Maybe just staying in and hiding for another day.
From who?
Considering the way he turned away from his reflection, maybe from himself. It usually was, wasn't it?
[OOC: For that guy what owns the place!]
- Hannibal's House (That Jono Pretty Much Also Lives In), Wednesday Morning
2015-10-07 09:38 pm (UTC) (Link)
It wasn't difficult for him to determine the mood Jono was in; at times like this, it was frustrating to know that medications wouldn't work on him. Apart from that assessment, though, Hannibal's reason for looking was entirely different.
The flames dancing in the dim room reflected off the mirror in the corner and the places where the drapes fell away from the windows. The light glinted in his hair and illuminated his pale skin.
Jono was beautiful.
2015-10-07 09:40 pm (UTC) (Link)
... Back toward that bloody mirror. For all the good that move had done him, then.
//I didn't wake you, did I?//
2015-10-07 09:42 pm (UTC) (Link)
2015-10-07 09:44 pm (UTC) (Link)
//I don't know. I'm not really... feeling today yet. And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow...//
Wait, what? Jono blinked, and then turned to face Hannibal, making a reach for the offered hand and trying again.
//You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't wanna go home right now.//
... Damn it, Fandom.
At least he wasn't yelling at himself in the mirror this time, though.
Edited at 2015-10-07 09:44 pm (UTC)
2015-10-07 09:56 pm (UTC) (Link)
"Someone falls to pieces sleeping all alone, someone kills the pain spinning in the silence to finally drift away..."
Dear lord, couldn't it have skipped him this year? He tugged on Jono's hand to bring him closer and managed despite Fandom to murmur, "That would be a terrible shame."
2015-10-07 09:58 pm (UTC) (Link)
... Because Hannibal wasn't the one angsting over his own stupid face in the mirror, that was why. Jono let him tug him closer, at least, and nodded his head faintly, squeezing his hand.
//And all I can taste is this moment,// he shared, //and all I can breathe is your life...//
Really, Fandom? Bit literal with him, wasn't it? Jono was going to maybe just sit on the edge of the bed and pretend this wasn't happening. How did that sound, hm?
2015-10-07 10:14 pm (UTC) (Link)
But he was alive, and really ought to do more living. "Someone lays a dozen white roses on a grave."
2015-10-07 10:16 pm (UTC) (Link)
//Sooner or later it's over,// he noted. That was kind of the way of it, wasn't it? Of everything worthwhile. He shrugged, and then let go of Hannibal's hand. //I just don't want to miss you tonight.//
Ah. That was the direction his brain was going today, then, wasn't it? Everything that this face of his had cost him? Everything it could cost him still?
He was hiding again. Looking back toward that damn mirror. Sorry, Hannibal. Enjoy that view of the back of his shoulder, there.
2015-10-07 10:17 pm (UTC) (Link)
2015-10-07 10:18 pm (UTC) (Link)
//I don't want the world to see me,// he argued. //'Cause I don't think that they'd understand.//
They never did. What good would being himself do him?
2015-10-07 10:20 pm (UTC) (Link)
2015-10-07 10:21 pm (UTC) (Link)
Jonothon did.
//When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am,// he replied, bunching up again in the shoulder, staring down at the floor.
He didn't even know who he was himself, half the time. How could he be that person? Everything was so bloody complicated, and Hannibal seemed to have a better handle on who Jono was meant to be than Jono himself did, sometimes.
It was frustrating.
It was terrifying.
2015-10-07 10:23 pm (UTC) (Link)
2015-10-07 10:24 pm (UTC) (Link)
//And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming.// He was fine, blast it. //Or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies...//
A dream? Some sort of bloody script that had been charted out for him? Or maybe one of those nightmares where you kept running in place, getting nowhere, while the world closed in and drowned you out...
He was balling himself up again, not quite able to keep eye contact.
2015-10-07 10:25 pm (UTC) (Link)