[ Lance's hands lift to curl around Clark's wrists, not to push him off but just seeking stability. His chest swells with longing, with the want to become who Clark thinks he can be, and yet struggling against the knowledge that he's so, so far from that. ]
I--okay. [ Because what else can he say to that? How else can he respond to that kind of expectation? You'll be better. He thinks of Shiro, his idol, of trying and failing to make his place, of acting confident when he doesn't feel confident. ] I'll try.
[ He breathes out, shakily, eyes full of water despite his best efforts. He lets his head tip forward until his forehead bumps against Clark's chest, letting the tension in his shoulders drain out. ]
no subject
I--okay. [ Because what else can he say to that? How else can he respond to that kind of expectation? You'll be better. He thinks of Shiro, his idol, of trying and failing to make his place, of acting confident when he doesn't feel confident. ] I'll try.
[ He breathes out, shakily, eyes full of water despite his best efforts. He lets his head tip forward until his forehead bumps against Clark's chest, letting the tension in his shoulders drain out. ]
Thanks.