[Vash opens his eyes again as Ain starts talking, having felt him put something around his neck. He can feel the weight behind it, the way it lays against his skin, aware of it long before he reaches his good hand up to touch it. His breath catches, and he feels his heart flutter.
A gift. A gift, Ain says. His eyes dart briefly, from Ain down to his fingertips that are brushing over the pendant, lifting it slightly off his collarbone so he can actually look at the stone there. It doesn't go amiss that it's the color it is, all deep and green.
I wanted to make sure I could do something nice for you.
So very rarely has anyone gone out of their way to just do something nice for him. The other times have been few and far between, left with this sense of owing him in some way, or tainted by the misfortune to inevitably follow. None of those memories are positive ones anymore, save...for that one. This jacket he's worn for nigh on a hundred years, now. The only thing from those days that's remained.
Home. It's home.
And as Vash sits there rubbing the pendant with his thumb, that's what he realizes this is, too.
It's why, after a pause that seems both too long and short, Ain will suddenly find himself swept up in Vash's arms, in the most massive bear hug he can manage. He squeezes him tight (but not too tight) to his chest, pressing his nose against his shoulder.]
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"This is for you, Vash! It's from everyone on Ship Three!"
A gift. A gift, Ain says. His eyes dart briefly, from Ain down to his fingertips that are brushing over the pendant, lifting it slightly off his collarbone so he can actually look at the stone there. It doesn't go amiss that it's the color it is, all deep and green.
I wanted to make sure I could do something nice for you.
So very rarely has anyone gone out of their way to just do something nice for him. The other times have been few and far between, left with this sense of owing him in some way, or tainted by the misfortune to inevitably follow. None of those memories are positive ones anymore, save...for that one. This jacket he's worn for nigh on a hundred years, now. The only thing from those days that's remained.
Home. It's home.
And as Vash sits there rubbing the pendant with his thumb, that's what he realizes this is, too.
It's why, after a pause that seems both too long and short, Ain will suddenly find himself swept up in Vash's arms, in the most massive bear hug he can manage. He squeezes him tight (but not too tight) to his chest, pressing his nose against his shoulder.]
...Thank you, Ain. I love it....it's perfect.