Solution {Jack}

[Admin]

Now it seems we're finding now.
That everything has it's own way of turning out.
So, don't let go, cause I'm not letting go,
Sometimes it's just easier when we know.

P'nay went by foot. He didn't need Annith. Well, he did, but not for what he was doing. Gyth and R'ish weren't in their weyr. He had made sure of it. He didn't want them there when he got there. He went up by himself. At the threshold, he paused. His fingers adjusted around what he carried. The sweater had taken him longer than it should have, but he had finally finished it. His weaver skills were growing rusty, but each moment where everything was all messed up had been agonizing, so sleep had been set aside for working on his little obsessive projects. He didn't look perfect, not entirely healthy for it all, but he had cleaned up for the occasion. His hair sat right on his head and he was dressed in crisp clothing. He had only changed twice before coming. It had been a bit much, but he had been looking for confidence from something. Anything.

Finally, he sat down on the ground in the middle of the weyr, crossing his legs. He set the sweater gently on his lap. It wasn't a very typical sweater. The lines were tight and thin across the body, meaning that it was light and capable of being form fitting. Considering it he had done his best to size it to perfection from a distinct familiarity with its intended wearer, it was going to be form fitting. Down in the arms, which weren't any real proper length but where an oddly short type of long, the lines had been done more loosely, the knit different, so that they were more free and more revealing. The collar was low cut at the center, and then fringed out oddly at the shoulders to accent all features better. It was a brilliant design on his part. It was also done in a brilliant deep pink with accent lines of black, to be perfect for who would be getting it.

With a patient resolve that came from the distant presence of Annith waiting with him at their weyr, he stayed with anticipation, unmoving. His four young firelizards burst from between and settled around him, but he only spared them a glance. Blue Carol proceeded to get them into order. They were all a part of his not entirely formed plan. They waited with him too. They all waited together. Carol did a few warm-up runs, and made the other tunes, but P'nay didn't even have to tell them to be quiet about it. They knew. Everything hung in the air. His heart pounded in his chest. What if he messed up? What was he doing? The questions hung, but he left them unanswered. He wasn't moving. He was going to stay there until he spoke to R'ish, and he wasn't going to leave the weyr until they were fixed. That would hopefully work in the end.

Then R'ish was there. It just happened, him becoming sharply aware of the returning presence of the pinkrider, and, for a moment, he just stared. It had been too long. The last time he had seen the other rider was sitting with another. That hadn't been pretty, but he wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about R'ish. So much time. Too much time. Just enough time. The moment was as right as it was ever going to be. He had come. Hurriedly, he got to his feet, scrambling before the other man could get to offering protest of him being in his weyr. His fingers grasp around the sweater, making sure he still had it, as if it might protect him. Faranth, he felt as if he had forgotten how beautiful the man in front of him was. How could that have happened? Time. There had been time. There couldn't ever be time between them again. Never.

"I made you a sweater;" he said, thrusting the garment forward as an offering. His hand was shaky, as was his voice. He was nervous, though failure wasn't an option. The sweater seemed like a good place to start. He was confident about the sweater. He had done that right, even if he hadn't done anything else right. He could knit. Even if he had stabbed himself with one of the needles as he had been working, he could knit. The sweater was perfect. It was all he had to give. Except words. He had words, if he remembered them. "Please, please, listen to me. Uh;" he rushed on, trying to make sure he would be heard out even as words failed. He simply spoke louder, so there wasn't a way for him to be drowned out even if he sounded ridiculous. He scrambled for words, hunting down the right ones he was sure that he had.

"I taught them a song. I couldn't remember it exactly, but it's close enough. Carol likes to edit things a little bit usually anyway;" he said, looking down at the quartet. They took his cue easily. Straightening up, Carol prodded them until they were right, and they launched into the song he had laboriously convinced them into learning. It was a love song, sweet and pretty, pulling heavily on little Stage, which hadn't pleased Carol at first. However, the black had a passionate voice in him. Partway through, he faltered, staring with terror at R'ish, but P'nay looked at him imploringly with some encouraging thoughts and he forged on valiantly. They had it perfectly. It was his feelings, because they knew his feelings and he had made them sing it as he wanted. He had a couple of claw marks to prove it.

The song wound down. Silence fell. P'nay had been staring at them with a faint hope. He looked at R'ish. For a moment, he was quiet. Then he realized that he was leaving an opportunity for protest. He hurriedly blinked, opening his mouth. He had to say something! What had he been going to say? Oh, right, he'd had a point! He knew what to say! It was simple! "I'm sorry. I love you." The words came out, and then he shut up. He had other things to say, but they wouldn't come out. He would explain later, about what he had. Right then, that was all he had to say. He just stared at R'ish. He'd said it. He'd said those words. They were true, spoken softer than all of his brash bits from before meant to keep R'ish quiet but they were spoken with a great intensity. He loved R'ish. He was sorry. He didn't have much else, but wasn't that the best answer?

We're coming around,
We're working it out somehow.
I'm feeling that I cannot deny,
We're alright, you and I?

[jack]

Today seemed like it had droned on longer than any normal day should. Of course, life itself had been ticking by with slow misery as of late, so the Pinkrider really had no right to be surprised. But as Gyth glided across the bowl, her mind distant as she mused over something or another she didn't want him to know about, R'ish felt as lonely and miserable as he had been in his entire life.

A sigh, long and pained, slid through his lips and he lifted a hand to run it through his hair, which had gotten longer than he liked it to as of late. But he'd been too out of his own mind to cut it, or even to replace the dozens of beads he usually kept in the soft cream locks. Only about five were left, and all of them were painted or natural wood--all of his ceramic and glass ones had fallen out. Oh he'd picked up most of them, tucking them away with the thousands of others he kept, but he hadn't had the will to slip them back into place. He hadn't had the will to do much lately.

With a soft croon, Gyth tuned into Hers after a long moment, sending her soothing love in waves. He stood solidly against them, but let a shadow of a smile drift over his lips as he leaned down and brushed his fingers over her hide. "I'm sorry, darling." He whispered, the Pink tilting her head even as she began to soar lower, heading towards her ledge, "I've been neglecting you and Sweet alike. How about a good long bath and an oiling, sweetness?" The Pink gave a trumpet of agreement, but said nothing, although she seemed a bit more eager as she circled once, twice, and then landed gently on her ledge.

Immediately, she noticed the intruder to her home. But as R'ish unharnessed her, the straps draped over his shoulder as he did, she was silent, simply looking to where she knew the man was. A flicker of hope sprouted up though as she stared, Sweet betweening to appear on her head. The Blue's eyes were whirling with her excitement, an excitement she kept from her own stare by a great force of will. But Sweet was less afraid to wish and be gleeful, and before R'ish fully turned around, gave a loud trill of encouragement. R'ish stopped in the motion to look up at the flit, who squirmed under his stare and gave another chirp. Arching a brow, the rider decided it was best to pay it no mind, and loaded down with riding equipment, turned.

Imagine his shock when he found his weyr had been invaded, not only by some random person, but by a very particular one. Soft grey eyes grew wide, and R'ish froze, blinking in surprised confusion before he stiffened, about to tell off the man that had stalked into his weyr, only to do somethi--...his eyes drifted down at P'nay's comment, staring at the sweater. It was dark pink...his absolute favorite shade. Slowly, his stare softened, insides clenching up into horrible knots as a very subtle frown tugged at his lips. It would be P'nay...P'nay to..make this day worse with falsities...lies and shadows he knew he couldn't trust. But the Pinkrider was silent, lifting his gaze with exhausted misery to stare solidly at the other.

From sweater to singing, it seemed. With Gyth looming behind him, a wall to keep Hers from trying to brush away P'nay, just to escape to someplace he didn't have to think or hope or wish, he gave an inaudible sigh, glancing down at the firelizard quartet. Against his own will, he found himself enjoying the song, a shadow of a smile growing on his lips. They were good, surprisingly, and it was clear that P'nay had put a lot of effort into this. If he remembered correctly, they didn't seem the type to..."obey." The Pinkrider's eyes crinkled in a broader smile, his gaze alighting strongest on the skiddish Black. The tiny thing truly had a lovely voice, and he gave the creature an appreciative look, Sweet sending the rider's thanks to him.

But the song was over soon enough, and R'ish lifted his eyes again, staring once again at P'nay. He said not a word, and didn't try to as the rider squirmed over an explanation...a very lacking one. Five words. Five simple, short words.
I'm sorry. I love you.
Time squeezed by slowly as the rider blinked, feeling his stomach flip and his heart clench. Unsure, he gave a long sigh and looked up, staring at the ceiling as though it were the most interesting thing in the world. For a long moment he stayed just like that, staring as blankly to the world as he would if nothing had happened at all. But hesitantly, he looked down and behind him, Gyth perked.

Silently, still no words in his throat to say, he dumped his load, almost slamming it onto the ground. Serious, almost angrily, he stepped forwards, effortlessly avoiding the flits as he slunk to the Yellowrider. His hands reached out, gently taking the sweater, but he didn't look at it as he tossed it back, letting it join Gyth's straps on the floor. Staring, he reached up almost as though he would grab P'nay's collar, but his arms slid around his neck instead of wrapping in shirt. A smile spread onto his lips, his eyes lighting up with glee, and he yanked the other down, pressing his lips against the blond's with hungry insistence only to break way, refusing to move more than an inch away, "Don't...ever leave me again."

[Admin]

This is not what I intended,
I always swore to you I'd never fall apart,
You always thought that I was stronger,
I may have failed but I have loved you.

It was agonizing, waiting for R'ish to react and say something. P'nay felt like he was trapped under the stare that he was receiving. It was so blank and so lifeless. Where was R'ish? He needed R'ish. The sigh disheartened him. A sigh wasn't a good thing. He liked the unnerving staring better than the pinkrider gazing at the ceiling. He was still trapped, waiting and waiting, unable to breathe, even without that stare on him. He was still stuck when R'ish changed to glance behind him. All he could do was wait, and he hated it. He didn't have anything to say. Nothing else was right to say then. He just had to wait, hoping to hear good words in response, with his sweater offering still grasped in his hand, which still shook. The fingers trembled subtly, though the motion was small. He was doing too much waiting to be trembling much. The seconds dragged on into one horrible pause.

Then the pinkrider was advancing on him. He made no effort to escape. Part of him screamed bloody murder when the sweater was taken from his grasp and then thrown. The yarn was good quality! It was new, unworn! He had spent so much time on it! He had made it perfect! It was a for R'ish! Wait, it had been R'ish that had thrown it. No words escaped his lips. He continued to be frozen, staring, as hands reached for his collar. What was coming? Was he going to be slapped? That had happened a time or two before. He would be fine with that. He could handle it. For being slapped a time or two before, he deserved to be slapped that time. As long as R'ish smiled at him again, after, as long as he didn't tell him to go away and didn't leave. As long as they got to be together, in the end of it all. As long as. As long as. R'ish. Just R'ish. Nothing else but R'ish.

Then there was that smile, a R'ish smile, and arms were around his neck. P'nay finally relaxed as he was pulled down, and he let himself melt into the kiss, pressing his lips back with a tentative desperation. It was really happening? It was fixed? It seemed unreal, so quick, but he quickly begin to realize it had been just quick enough. He had missed that so much, the feeling of that kiss, which was right. Nothing else would quite fit like the man he had found. They were right, and he found the easiest to believe and see in the kiss. He had to remember himself and his nonexistent manners for such a situation when R'ish pulled away. It was good that the other man didn't move more than an inch or two, because he didn't want more space. No more. Not ever. He would forget, otherwise, and he didn't want to forget that they were right anymore times than he had to as he was.

The request made him grin in elation. His heart fluttered away in his chest, high up in the air on its own little, adorable pair of wings. "I won't. I promise;" he swore eagerly. He didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay. He'd never meant to leave. He had thought he had been left, which is what he had always remembered happening to him. Oh, how things changed! Once the dramatic reunion was faded slightly, Carol leaped into the air to do some dramatic gallivanting about the air, and Capella joined in on the action. Stage hid between Junior, who watched. Except for a shift of amusement to his joyous smile, he ignored them. It was generally for the best. Encouraging them only made Capella more liable to sulk at another point and for Carol to have a diva moment, which he had enough of as it was. Above them in his mind, Annith thrummed far stronger with joy.

Reluctantly, he realized he did have other things that he had to say, things that came after they were starting to patch things up. He wished he could leave them for later, but he knew he couldn't. If he waited, he was never going to end up saying anything important ever again. Such a thing as that would leave him back in the hole where he had been, without R'ish. He drew in a deep, resigned breath, though he kept on smiling. He couldn't be sad, as it was, simply resigned to being himself. "We should probably talk, though, if we're going to try being in a relationship. I'm kind of terrible at that, but this talking thing is supposed to be good." He sounded skeptical of the goodness of talking in a relationship, but he figure it was still for the best. He could at least score some points in honesty, if nothing else, which he could use. He paused, forming proper sentences.

"There's Lio, L'can, to think about. Anni is so fond of Mikidith, and someone has to catch her when she flies. He likes me too, not loves, not like you. I like him too, but I don't love him either, not like I love you. Still, he's a friend. We should be nice to him or something;" he said, mumbling towards the end. His face crinkled up all apologetically. Why had he chosen to mention that then, really? He was saying stupid things, though, of course, that was a very good point of itself. "I can't promise I won't say stupid things. I can't promise I won't notice other people, but I can promise to never leave, and I can promise to say I love you a million times, until you strangle me in my sleep;" he explained, grinning at the end. He peered over the pinkrider's shoulder, at the sweater. He made a chiding noise against his teeth. "Also, you really shouldn't leave that on the ground."

Because tonight will be the night,
That I will fall for you over again,
Don’t make me change my mind,
Or I won’t live to see another day.