Catharsis
“You don’t have to be nervous.”
“I’m not!” He says as he rights himself, flopping down onto the couch with a petulant huff and turns his attention back to the silver haired man – tracking his movements as he comes to stand in front of Kaveh. His presence is looming and overwhelming, the scent of aged leather and decaying paper hitting him in the face as if he had just thrown open the doors to an ancient library. Intoxicating would be a good word for it, his body instinctively shifting forwards to draw himself closer into this man’s gravitational pull.
A hand tucks under Kaveh’s chin, nudging it upwards as a thumb soothes along his jaw. “Could have fooled me, Kaveh.” His lips curl up slightly as he holds him there, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “It’s alright, it’s natural to be a bit nervous. Especially if this is your first time doing something like this. Are you familiar with the color system?”
