- That resonated with him.
For a moment he felt a rush of emotion, but it wasn't anything from this moment; it was warm and frantic and bloody, smelling like metal and earth and fear, tasting like adrenaline on his tongue. He remembered Blackfrair's in sudden startling detail. He remembered how his shoulder felt when it was torn apart, or how scared he felt looking at Jamie's marred shirt and equally ravaged chest. But before that—
He remembered the initial panic and following Thorne and finally—he remembered all of them, sort of; the faces were blurry, but one of them had been tall and wolfish, another one shorter but—feminine? And then there was Jamie, the focal point of the memory, his eyes wide with fear and his body twisted with the appearance of a hare. There was a disgusting relief at being reunited. There was a twisted rush of anxiety at the thought that he might be hurt here. There was an overwhelming sensation to protect.
He remembered giving Jamie his hat, and he remembered hugging him, and he remembered affirming their friendship then. They were best friends, and nothing would change that. They shared that night together after the fact—well, the night after the night, because at first there had been Other Ashdown and startling confusion and wonder from Shiloh's part, and then there had been the apartment with their teacher, and then—that was when they went back to Jamie's house, the very same bedroom next to the one he was currently occupying. It was the same bed where they clumsily shared a first kiss and the recollection made Shiloh touch his own lips, like the feeling was ghosting over him again. And then the day after that—
"Best friends..." he echoed. Blackfrair's hadn't been that long ago, really, only a single summer. "That—"
That what? Meant a lot? Touched him? It did, but he was grappling with the memories. "Whatever happens..." he echoed hastily, not wanting to lament on his fears or think about his troubles. This was today, this was their time, and they would experience this and the future together. Despite how disjointed his thoughts sounded when they were spoken aloud, he was grinning, like he had answered some ancient impossible puzzle. "I want to learn about you again too," he was speaking a little more fervently, a little more rambunctious, "Together, and we can both change, and grow, and—"
The vines snaked around them snugly, buds poking out along the strands of green, each nub so swollen that they looked like they might burst.
And they did, into hundreds of little violet clamantises. "Do you remember Blackfrair's?" he couldn't keep the notion to himself anymore, he had to share in his discovery, "I mean—probably, definitely, it was bad—but like, we lived through that." his arms squeezed around Jamie's frame, "We lived through this, we can—we can ******** do anything."
For that moment, so caught up with energy, it sounded like Shiloh wholeheartedly believed it. Maybe the notion of power in friendship was silly or naive, but Jamie had that effect on him.
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saedusk
