(no subject)
Written for mein wifey. Havoc/Heiderich
Analytical, practical, straightforward; that's what the young man always tried to project about himself as if those three words alone made up who he was. Perhaps he needed them. Something to hold him together beyond his own skin. He didn't seem to understand that is was alright to be different, that it was alright to show his fear and uncertainty. But the boy held it all inside and only showed his easy smile to the world around him.
More than anything the taller blonde wanted to reach across the table that separated them and shake the younger man to his senses. He wanted to be able to make him finally understand that it was okay to ask for help, it was going to be just fine if he needed a shoulder to lean against. But he couldn't, not like this, in front of everyone. That would only serve to drive the lad further into his shell. No, Heiderich was too fragile to be handled so roughly.
What the boy needed was a gentle hand and soft words. Both of which Havoc would happily employ once he gathered their coats and took the slip of a boy out for an early dinner. Maybe over a peaceful meal the small German would open up and let someone in.
Analytical, practical, straightforward; that's what the young man always tried to project about himself as if those three words alone made up who he was. Perhaps he needed them. Something to hold him together beyond his own skin. He didn't seem to understand that is was alright to be different, that it was alright to show his fear and uncertainty. But the boy held it all inside and only showed his easy smile to the world around him.
More than anything the taller blonde wanted to reach across the table that separated them and shake the younger man to his senses. He wanted to be able to make him finally understand that it was okay to ask for help, it was going to be just fine if he needed a shoulder to lean against. But he couldn't, not like this, in front of everyone. That would only serve to drive the lad further into his shell. No, Heiderich was too fragile to be handled so roughly.
What the boy needed was a gentle hand and soft words. Both of which Havoc would happily employ once he gathered their coats and took the slip of a boy out for an early dinner. Maybe over a peaceful meal the small German would open up and let someone in.