[The quiet is fine. Preferable, even. Yuan is perfectly set to ignore Kratos until there's movement; and even then, he doesn't glance up, only tracks Kratos by sound and mana and peripheral vision.]
[And yet somehow it's still a surprise when Kratos falls onto the couch next to him. Yuan doesn't so much flinch as freeze, briefly going inhumanly still, all extraneous movement ceased. But he still needs to breathe, and in a moment or two he's back to a normal state, scraping his pen down the page and still not bothering to look up.]
[He can't honestly remember how long it's been, for something like this. Long enough that it feels foreign; but Kratos is familiar enough that it's almost as natural as it is odd.]
[And there's something warm and tight in his chest.]
Even if it means you outlive your son?
[Because Yuan is apparently determined to sabotage his own potential happiness, such as it is. He turns a page over, drums his fingers against it. Kratos is a warm weight against his shoulder.]
no subject
[And yet somehow it's still a surprise when Kratos falls onto the couch next to him. Yuan doesn't so much flinch as freeze, briefly going inhumanly still, all extraneous movement ceased. But he still needs to breathe, and in a moment or two he's back to a normal state, scraping his pen down the page and still not bothering to look up.]
[He can't honestly remember how long it's been, for something like this. Long enough that it feels foreign; but Kratos is familiar enough that it's almost as natural as it is odd.]
[And there's something warm and tight in his chest.]
Even if it means you outlive your son?
[Because Yuan is apparently determined to sabotage his own potential happiness, such as it is. He turns a page over, drums his fingers against it. Kratos is a warm weight against his shoulder.]
Only after everything, hm?