[Sparkling is a little surprised, admittedly, by the gesture. Sparkling may not have known Spike terribly long, but what he does know is that he's very sparing when it comes to being tactile with others. He's active and always moving, gesturing as he talks, keeping some sort of momentum even in quiet moments. That sometimes extends to contact, sure, but not...like this. Sparkling would know, because he's equally the type of person to be sparing with opening himself up to that degree at the risk of seeming too...he doesn't know. Is it even fair to say vulnerable anymore, when he's like this? There's not much lower he can go at this point.
So he looks down at his own hand and realizes that he'd already reacted to Spike putting his own there before he even registered what he was doing, unconsciously craving the closeness. In the end, it's fine. He needs it, actually, and the fact that it's given unspoken- unflinching- helps.
He doesn't try to fake his smiling anymore, letting the quirk of his lips completely drop from his face now as he relaxes his fingers over Spike's. His own struggle a bit to move with the way the stems of the flowers are trying to choke out the tendons and keep them rigid, and as he feels Spike's thumb rub against his he realizes why this feels so familiar. The easy contact that's almost expected because that's just how he is, too drunk to really care how overly friendly he's being-
Sparkling's brows knit together and for a moment he looks pained in a way that isn't related to the flowers at all but instead an anguish he didn't really even know was there until he'd had everything he knew and loved taken away from him.]
...I hope so. [He finally murmurs, his voice raw.] That's all I've ever wanted.
[He turns his head to the side for a moment, his gaze off towards the far wall. Well, he's opening up...somewhat. But it doesn't seem to be working, which means he's not talking about the right things. Maybe he isn't going to figure out what those things are, but at least he's trying, he thinks.]
But really, I'm...I'm selfish, you know.
[Time to be Honest, if nothing else.]
I'm not...a nice person just for the sake of it. I want to be liked. I want to be renowned. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I became any less that someone worth remembering.
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So he looks down at his own hand and realizes that he'd already reacted to Spike putting his own there before he even registered what he was doing, unconsciously craving the closeness. In the end, it's fine. He needs it, actually, and the fact that it's given unspoken- unflinching- helps.
He doesn't try to fake his smiling anymore, letting the quirk of his lips completely drop from his face now as he relaxes his fingers over Spike's. His own struggle a bit to move with the way the stems of the flowers are trying to choke out the tendons and keep them rigid, and as he feels Spike's thumb rub against his he realizes why this feels so familiar. The easy contact that's almost expected because that's just how he is, too drunk to really care how overly friendly he's being-
Sparkling's brows knit together and for a moment he looks pained in a way that isn't related to the flowers at all but instead an anguish he didn't really even know was there until he'd had everything he knew and loved taken away from him.]
...I hope so. [He finally murmurs, his voice raw.] That's all I've ever wanted.
[He turns his head to the side for a moment, his gaze off towards the far wall. Well, he's opening up...somewhat. But it doesn't seem to be working, which means he's not talking about the right things. Maybe he isn't going to figure out what those things are, but at least he's trying, he thinks.]
But really, I'm...I'm selfish, you know.
[Time to be Honest, if nothing else.]
I'm not...a nice person just for the sake of it. I want to be liked. I want to be renowned. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I became any less that someone worth remembering.
Isn't that awful?