Work Text:
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
The sun begins to set, the orange and pink colouring the sky warn you it'll get cold soon. Despite that, you remain sat on the edge of the Perseus, fishing mindlessly. The repetitive motion of the action is soothing, in a way, and the familiarity of it only draws you in further. You've been put at sea for a few weeks at this point, on your way to America to start a corn farm. The corn was a kind you assumed was native to America, a kind that you can make lots of alcohol from. The alcohol's needed to make revival fluid. You hope your group can find it.
Just as you're lost in your thoughts and fishing, you feel the weight of something being sat around your shoulders, then see Gen come up and sit beside you. "Hello, Dear (name)." His voice is as smooth as ever, snapping you out of your daze. "Gen?" You speak up looking over your shoulder at him. He's sitting with his legs folded in front of him, his arms resting on his knees casually He isn't wearing his overcoat. "That's me~"
You look at your shoulders, finding a purple fabric. It smells how Gen always does; of flowers and Senku-cola. It doesn't take you long to figure out Gen had put his coat on you. "...What's this for?" You give him a questioning look, but use your free hand to subtly wrap it around yourself further, taking in his scent. "You were acking-shay?" His words make you pause. You'd been shaking? How hadn't you noticed. "...huh."
"But what about you?" You reel in the rod, before tossing the hook out once more. "Me? Oh, I've got layers on, I'll be fine." He gives a smile, tugging on the neck of his undershirt to prove his point. This earns an unconvinced hum from you, but you drop the subject, knowing from experience that you just can't win with Gen. "Well, what brings you over here? Did you need something?" Gen pauses momentarily, before offering a shrug. "Only your company. You looked quite onely-lay here by yourself, you know." This earns a scoff from you. "...I was fine.. but thank you."
"Pft, you're welcome~." Your gaze drifts back to the vast sea in front of you, and you continue fishing. Unbeknownst to you, Gens gaze never leaves you. An unreadable look on his face. A silence falls between the two of you, the only noise heard being distant chatter from the casino, the chilly wind, and the thrash of the waves against the Perseus.
"...Dear (name)?" He pulls your attention away from the activity at hand, and for the first time since you met him, you find that Gen is hesitant to speak. "Yes? What's wrong?" Gen hesitates, trying to find a way to say it. "I was just wondering... are you okay?" "I mean- I heard you earlier... -Not that I was eaves dropping or anything!"
You pause, caught off guard by the difference in character. He usually knows exactly what to say, and practically creates a whole new meaning of the word confidence. Why was he worried? What did he hear? Why was he acting so different? What does he know? Does he see you differently now? Does he hate you? Does he pity you? What do you even say to that? Why was he bringing this up?
So many questions run through your mind, you fail to notice how intensely you're staring at Gen. Then a single tear falls from your eyes. You don't even notice it. Not until you feel Gen pulling you into his arms, at least. His action snaps you out of your thoughts, you find yourself pressed against the taller mans body, your face against his chest, and your body sat between his legs. His hands rest on your back, holding you so gently, as if you were a fragile flower, ready to fall apart at the slightest touch. His voice doesn't even register, his concerned questions falling on deaf ears. Before you know it, you find yourself crying into his chest, your body trembling with muffled sobs.
Gens hand makes its way to your hair, fingers running through it in an almost desperate attempt at comfort. Gen had always been very good at words, good at understanding and taking advantage of the human psyche, but when it came to you? When it came to you he found himself at a loss, stuttering over words and barely concealing the way you made his heart pound in his chest. With you he was helpless, and he knew it all too well.
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃