[ Drake stands to fetch the book and a fresh shirt for Ephemera, but the sentiment that the other man needs to make this up to him has him glancing over his shoulder.
He shakes his head. ]
Everything will balance out. I don't want you feeling like you owe me anything, or that I'd hold this over you.
Just a minute.
[ He disappears into his room, and there's the sound of a drawer opening. Things shuffling inside. When he comes back he's got a red photo album and a long sleeved black shirt. They're passed over one at a time. ]
[ Oh. Ephemera stares after Drake for a moment, wondering what he's supposed to say. He keeps fucking things up, and Drake is always - there. A steadying presence. And there's a part of him that wants to be steady too, to make it symmetric, but he doesn't quite know how.
But maybe he could learn. Maybe he could do that one day.
His expression softens when Drake returns. ]
Think I've got it. Thanks. Now I definitely have to share my fancy chocolate with you.
[ Drake really does believe that it'll balance out -- and that if someone steady was what he needed, Ephemera could be that for him. But right now... he doesn't know what it is he needs, besides the other man alive and with him. It's an easy requirement, really.
He smiles again, sitting back down and resting one hand over the cover of the book while Ephemera puts the shirt on. ]
I'd like that. Since we're sharing and all... do you guys have rattails in the future? That's a style I hope never came back around. Anyway.
[ He flips the book open to reveal that they're starting things with baby pictures. In many of them a woman with fluffy red hair holds a baby that's surely too small to have turned into Drake, her smile bright and proud. ]
[ He leans in closer, tugging his shirt down. It's different, seeing baby pictures. Wondering what that must've been like, to grow up with blood family around. Sometimes Ephemera thinks he remembers a woman with dark hair, a woman in uniform, but he's not certain if that's a real memory or something he made up, the kind of story orphans tell themselves to fill in the gasp. Either way, this is real. This was Drake's life. ]
It is. And everybody starts out tiny, but yeah. I came a little early.
[ He turns the pages; the baby pictures are pretty standard. Silly outfits, happy expressions, bathtime, first unsteady steps... the beginning of a life, documented at the start of a thick album. Drake knows Ephemera doesn't have anything like this. That he's lucky to have had his ma, who thought he could do no wrong.
If he's observant, Ephemera might notice a handful of the pictures are snipped, someone taken out of them. It's just Drake, and his mother.
The grade school pics are where the embarrassing hair begins and oh lord, it doesn't stop. ]
...I'd say I was too young to know what I looked like, but high school was just as bad.
[ But now he does. Ephemera shifts closer, reminding himself to eat while Drake turns the pages. The idea of family photo albums is still a novelty, something that other people did that Ephemera only knows by reputation. But this is Drake's life, piece by piece, picture by picture, and Ephemera gets to share that.
He huffs a little, nudging Drake with his arm. ]
Nah, I've seen worse. Trust me. You look happy.
[ He doesn't comment on the snipped pictures. He knows part of that story. It doesn't need to be dredged back up, not unless Drake wants to tell him more. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ He means it. Despite all the damage, all the goddamn blood that Drake just finished scrubbing off him, this feels -
Right. Or at the very least, it's calm. Maybe he needs that, in the aftermath. He shifts to take the ice pack. ]
I'll make it up to you, okay? Somehow.
no subject
He shakes his head. ]
Everything will balance out. I don't want you feeling like you owe me anything, or that I'd hold this over you.
Just a minute.
[ He disappears into his room, and there's the sound of a drawer opening. Things shuffling inside. When he comes back he's got a red photo album and a long sleeved black shirt. They're passed over one at a time. ]
You need help getting that on?
no subject
But maybe he could learn. Maybe he could do that one day.
His expression softens when Drake returns. ]
Think I've got it. Thanks. Now I definitely have to share my fancy chocolate with you.
no subject
He smiles again, sitting back down and resting one hand over the cover of the book while Ephemera puts the shirt on. ]
I'd like that. Since we're sharing and all... do you guys have rattails in the future? That's a style I hope never came back around. Anyway.
[ He flips the book open to reveal that they're starting things with baby pictures. In many of them a woman with fluffy red hair holds a baby that's surely too small to have turned into Drake, her smile bright and proud. ]
no subject
[ He leans in closer, tugging his shirt down. It's different, seeing baby pictures. Wondering what that must've been like, to grow up with blood family around. Sometimes Ephemera thinks he remembers a woman with dark hair, a woman in uniform, but he's not certain if that's a real memory or something he made up, the kind of story orphans tell themselves to fill in the gasp. Either way, this is real. This was Drake's life. ]
You were tiny, man.
no subject
[ He turns the pages; the baby pictures are pretty standard. Silly outfits, happy expressions, bathtime, first unsteady steps... the beginning of a life, documented at the start of a thick album. Drake knows Ephemera doesn't have anything like this. That he's lucky to have had his ma, who thought he could do no wrong.
If he's observant, Ephemera might notice a handful of the pictures are snipped, someone taken out of them. It's just Drake, and his mother.
The grade school pics are where the embarrassing hair begins and oh lord, it doesn't stop. ]
...I'd say I was too young to know what I looked like, but high school was just as bad.
no subject
[ But now he does. Ephemera shifts closer, reminding himself to eat while Drake turns the pages. The idea of family photo albums is still a novelty, something that other people did that Ephemera only knows by reputation. But this is Drake's life, piece by piece, picture by picture, and Ephemera gets to share that.
He huffs a little, nudging Drake with his arm. ]
Nah, I've seen worse. Trust me. You look happy.
[ He doesn't comment on the snipped pictures. He knows part of that story. It doesn't need to be dredged back up, not unless Drake wants to tell him more. ]