Chapter Text
Seb passed the serving plate of veggies over to Hanna. She took it without a word, barely looking at him as she did so. Seb watched with building sorrow as Emilie exchanged a look with Matilde. No. He had to do better. He was better than this. He had to be better than this.
The kids were very happy to spend Christmas someplace new, but even more excited to see their papa sooner than they'd thought, though you couldn't have guessed from how they spent their days. Matilde found Kimi’s library more than sufficient a place to curl up and draw and read; Hanna and Marco likewise found it pleasant, and quickly settled in.
Emilie was more than happy to shadow Stanna and help him - or, in the very least, learn how to - chop wood, until Kimi shooed them indoors after three quarters an hour in light snow. Instead, Kimi and Seb finished up the job, only lightly dressed, not too dressed, for mobility, and because of the exertion of the work.
They chatted occasionally whilst they worked, eager to finish the job and get back indoors, but content to just spend time together, just like - if not in a completely different context - the time before.
“How are you, Sebbie?” Kimi suddenly broke the silence, that peaceful silence they had enjoyed whilst they work, broken in on only by the sporadic whir of the axe through the air and the thud of the axe striking the log, then the crack-thud-thud of the wood splitting and falling, the sound still clear and sharp on the blue-grey cobble of the courtyard, in spite of the sparse layer of snow that lay sprinkled over the ground, still falling from the sky in light flakes - perhaps in part due to the sparseness of the troddenness of the snow.
“Me?” Seb laughed lightly, trivially, dismissively brushing off Kimi’s worried tone. “I'm good, how're you?”
“Are you sure you're good?” Seb noted with curiosity and displeasure how Kimi ignored his return of phrase, noted how he sounded discontent and anxious, how he had stopped moving - from what he could see out of the corner of his eye, just before his vision was cut off by the woolly hat he had pulled down tight over his ears.
He moved to pick up the forgotten axe sheaths. Kimi’s was beautifully intricate, leather well burnished and waxed, with triplet brass press studs, the beauty of the piece overshadowing the need Kimi has ignored for decades of rehoning the knotted edge of the steel, his own borrowed axe sheath plain black HDPE, but better, sharper, lighter. He handed Kimi his sheath, twisting away to avoid looking at him directly, busing himself with drying the head of the axe on his trouser leg, and slipping the sheath in place, covering the dull gleam the chromium left on the surface of the stainless steel, purposely not sliding the cover on down all the way, so he would have to struggle with the clasp. When he could delay it no longer, and only when he could delay it no longer, he turned to observe Kimi’s sighing face on.
Kimi had on dark anti-glare sunglasses, to stop the light of the sun reflecting off the snow and blinding him; Seb wanted to reach over and snatch them off his face, it wasn't fair that Kimi could look at him, bare to all the world, bare under Kimi’s eyes, yet Kimi’s own eyes could be covered by the shades.
Kimi’s mouth twitched again, and he grimaced, just ever so slightly, barely infinitesimally so.
Seb peered back at him through the gap left between his scarf, pulled high up over his nose and mouth, and the hat, pulled down low over his ears and forehead. He yanked the sweaty snow covered mess of a hat off his head and ran a hand through the dampening curls of hair, before tossing his head, and ramming it back into the hat.
“I'm fine,” he muttered. He took in a deep breath and held it, before letting it all out again. “I'm fine .”
“You barely eat anything anymore, and you look like you've not slept in a year. What's up?” Kimi’s voice turned soft, gentle, as though he were speaking to an abandoned doe who were about to bolt.
Seb wanted to ask for help, to send out a cry, a signal, anything, for help.
He felt the cry building in his chest, growing, expanding; very soon, he knew that it'd burst out of him, spilling out its ugliness into the beautiful utopia Kimi had so carefully constructed, and if there was one thing he wanted to avoid, it was spoiling Kimi’s world with his messy, dirty, sordid ugliness.
He opened and closed his hand, gripping a fist before letting it go again, and opened his mouth to speak, only to close it all over again, keeping his silence.
Kimi watched him; Seb knew that concern was in his eyes, he could feel the concern emanating from him, but he didn't dare meet Kimi’s eyes, should he snap, and spill all of his dirty messiness from his mouth.
“I think Hanna-” He ate the words ‘is mad at me’. No use in making it all worse. Hanna would not appreciate him spilling this to Kimi. Especially not to Kimi .
“No. It's nothing. Sorry. Never mind. Thank you. Sorry. I- it's- no. Sorry. I mustn't bother you with this.” He shuffled his feet in the grey sludge underfoot.
“Are you sure?” Kimi’s eyes were filled with sorry, with regret, with all of the emotions in the world Seb could not face to see in the eyes of the man whom he loved most, with all his heart, all his soul, his being.
“I'm sure.” He hefted his axe closer to his body, cradling it in a close embrace; he backed away slowly, turned to face away, made to move, and-
He turned back. He faced Kimi once more.
“I'm sorry. You do not deserve this. You do not deserve this pain, this hurt, this suffering that I have brought upon you and your home. I am sorry.”
He looked down, staring at the white-grey-white-grey mottling until it all spun inwards onto itself and swirled in a fuzz, a blur. He heard the steps of Kimi approach, but listened not to the direction it flowed. Kimi stood before him. He lifted his chin with a gentle hand. “Look me in the eyes, and do not just hear my voice, but listen to my words, Sebbie. It is okay. It is all okay. I care about you, so it's all okay. Do not worry.” Kimi closed the final distance, and wrapped his arms tight around his body, Kimi taking care when hooking his arms under Seb’s. Seb held the wooden arm of the axe breaking the distance between their bodies, hoping he would not drop the axe on Kimi’s foot, sheathed or not, head or butt. His own, he did not care, but it was bad etiquette to attack your host and best friend, even if through accident.
“Okay.” That was all he could say. What else was there for him to say? What could he say, that he could believe, that Kimi could believe, that Kimi would want to hear, that he himself would want to hear? “Okay. I believe you.”