[ there's the part of cloud that wants to begrudge him, call him a naive man for this--"you barely know me. i barely know myself. why in the world would you trust me?"

but each and every syllable whittles away beneath his tongue, nowhere to be found. why? is it the casino, that compels him to accept this all encompassing warmth, the embers of connection he'd been so eager to snuff out. in a fraction of a second, cloud's features blank, unsure of how to externalize the haphazard, garbage assembly of feeling polluting his brain. he turns to roche's palm, teeth grit, eyes wrenched shut. a stupidly vulnerable position, and one he can't forfeit.

there's a slow shake of the head, but he doesn't remove his hand. nose to nose, cheek to cheek, roche's breath beats against his face and his heart clenches. ]

...I'm--

[ "afraid -- and alone, and i don't know why." he was never in his own mind, his own body, never at the right place at the right time. his hands curl against roche's shoulders for purchase, and he kisses him again, as if to compensate for his inability to verbalize the white noise in his head. ]

Someone's gonna hurt you one day, you know-- [ he says in a breath, fingers clenching. ]

You can't... just give yourself to people like that...

[ it's spoken out of concern. he knows that. ]

You're still a person.