ghostofwhitestone: Intimacy Prompts
“Milo, this is fucking stupid,” Ashton said harshly, a piece of charcoal pinched between their fingers. Milo sighed, leaning over the table with an apologetic expression.
“I’m sorry, Ash, but you have to practice. I mean…” a strange expression, one that only occurred when they brought up the miasma behind Ashton’s skull, crossed over their face as they spoke, “Fine motor skills are important, especially after what happened, so please. Humor me. I know it’s been a while, but humor me.” Ashton sighed, long and dramatic before placing his hand to the parchment, and slowly beginning to sketch. What started as a random grouping of lines eventually formed the triangles that never seemed to leave them, even in dreams.
But all it took was moving their elbow an inch too far, and their eyes went blurry with a flash of pain, the charcoal clattering to the floor.
“Fuck!” Ashton yelled, returning their arm to a more comfortable position before looking to Milo. “You see? Fucking stupid.”
“Sorry Ash,” they said softly, the beginnings of a healing spell forming at their fingertips. Neither really noticed the sound of an old wheel rolling into the room, shortly followed by a light, cheery voice.
“Everything alright in here?” FCG asked, wide mechanical eyes darting between them.
“Just trying to get Ash to draw,” Milo muttered, picking up the charcoal without looking at him, “I know they’ve been wanting something on their jacket, so I figure we’ll work up to it.”
“Would help if I could do it for more than ten fucking minutes.” Ashton said darkly, attempting something like a stretch.
“Well would it help if you drew on me?” FCG asked, wheeling closer to Ashton, “If it ends up feelin’ bad, I could help you out with a spell, and I can position myself however you need so you’re comfortable.” There was a genuine nature to their offer, one that was beyond strange to hear but not entirely unwelcome. Ashton chuckled.
“What if I just wrote ‘fuck you’ on your face or something.” To their surprise, FCG shrugged.
“If that would help, it’s fine by me.” Ashton managed an amused smirk, glancing to Milo for a moment before picking up the charcoal again.
“Alright Letters,” Ashton said as they tipped their head so Ashton could write on it without straining himself, “Let’s fuckin’ try this.”
FCG went into stasis with a litany of expletives and symbols on their face, which Milo wiped off with a slight smile.
It was hardly a traditional solution, but it seemed to make Ashton smirk just a bit.
And for FCG, that was an objective fulfilled.
