"I believe it is. Inspiration can be a funny thing. To light a fire in the hearts of people to do outrageous things, it's interesting."
He shook his head. "I take the words of those old men in the Royal Society of Medicine and all those professors too seriously despite sometimes ignoring them." His thoughts easily turned into words; sometimes it worked for better or for worse. All Maximillian could do was shrug. "Hmm…I am not necessarily sure myself, just a possible theory I assume. A bag of feathers will feel heavier than a weight after a while."
Taking out his glasses, he put them on in order to get a better look at the braces he made. They seemed to be stable enough. "Do those fit you perfectly? Do you feel anything in your hands already?" He asked. Wrist braces were a single thing to start off with; he did not want to experiment with this American thing called ether or run home to get something.
"What? The work as your close friend or the work as your doctor? I am slightly confused since I can see the answer being both," He grinned. Picking up the open, he opened it to a random page. His eyes lingered on the words, scanning them for a minute or two. A gentle breath slipped through the gap between his lips. "You know, Ivy, you make the science of plants so much more interesting. You make it an art in itself."
He simply shrugged again. Despite being a leader in his community, he never really thought he inspired people. Of course, he knew Max inspired him, and that is perhaps the root of why it didn’t matter so much in his opinion. The effect of what he stirred in Ivory was an amalgamation of all of these other inspirations, but contained in the single person. So did it really matter if how Max affected him was the result of other influences? Ivory did not think so, at least, not in a case such as this.
He chuckled faintly, but at first did not reply. His mind was flooded with thoughts. “An interesting theory,” he then muttered. “Perhaps…”
His attention turned to his hands. “I believe so,” he nodded. Pursing his lips, he tried to wiggle the fingers inside the brace. “They feel like you transformed them into stone,” he chucked. “Although, there is some tingling here.”
Some combination of embarrassment and amusement tugged at his lips. He would have covered them with his hand, if only. “Ah, yes… my bad. I mean as a doctor.” He watched as his friend picked up the book, and blinked. “Do I? Oh, wait, I believe you have said something like that to me before. Well, in a way it is an art, at least when it comes to gardening.” He inclined his head in the direction of the window, which overlooked his treasured gardens. “The science of it is really just that, a science. But it’s nice to hear that, even if for the second time. I would hate to make it into anything less.”
"Hmmm, it should provide extra support," He hummed. Setting the book down on his lap, he carefully took one of Ivory's wrapped up hands, examining his wrapping of the bandage. He placed it down in its previous spot. "Ah, I did not expect to be Medusa in a way," Max chuckled. Shifting forward, he pushed back his glasses. "I am not going to expect you to have complete feeling in them instantly, but I am glad there is some sort of sensation you are experiencing."
Maximillian went back to looking through the book. His fingertips lightly floated on top of words. Meanwhile his other hand felt the cover as it supported the book. He skimmed through pages, briefly gazing through passages and some small pictures. "I probably have told you that a million times among other things. The only thing I can do on that matter is warn you that I will defiantly saw it again." If he could be frank, he would say all the thoughts that are dashing around in his mind. He wants to, yet something is holding onto his tongue. But oh, his heart longs for the opportunity.
Lowering the book, he noticed Ivory. His eyes followed, glimpsing out the window. The shape of his lips flattened into a thin lip as if they wished to form a smile. Max closed the book, sat it beside Ivory, then stood up. His knees cracked as he strolled over to the window. "And when was the last time you practiced your science, Ivy? Perhaps if you start to feel better, we can venture outside into your gardens."
Ivory quirked a smile. “Ah well, it was the only way I could think of describing the feeling.” He looked down at his hands, then up at his friend, nodding. His eyes followed him as Max flipped through the book, as he was rather unable to look away. When Max came to a section talking about leaf shape and adaptations, Ivory got a little excited, as he had already read it and wanted to talk about it. It was a nice feeling; he had not felt it in a while. He did not speak though, Maximillian had spoken first.
“Well then, I shall keep that in mind,” he said, smiling faintly. Suddenly his mind went blank, and he could not think of anything else to say. Perhaps it was because his friend looked as though he was going to speak, and he should be listening in. But this did not pass, and Max soon stood up from the bed to look out the window.
His eyes grew wide. “Oh…” A pause. “I have not been outside for three or four days, I should think. I… oh, I do hope so. I doubt that would happen as soon as today, however.”
Maximillian leaned against the wall with his head peering by the curtain. His eyes took a glance at the flowers and plants in the gardens. He imagined himself walking with Ivory. Maybe holding hands, smiling and laughing together. Running through the rows of plants just like they did when they were children.
"Hm?" He stood away from the window after his shoulders jumped. Oh how his mind always goes into a daydream state. He loves it, but he hates it the moment he's out of it. He wants it to be a reality. The sight of Ivory made him sigh.
"Oh, well of course. I do not want to rush your nor would I want to rush progress. Let your body take its time to get better," He smiled. "We can go out in a few days if you are better enough to do so. Still, having the curtains and window opened might help. Even having some plants in here too can."
He went back to leaning. With his hand, he ran it through his hair a couple of times. "I am surprised you do not have a mini garden in this room." He lightly laughed. "It is not Ivory-like of you to have hanging plants up or a pot of tulips or roses at your nightstand."
He stared at Maximillian, still rather unable to tear his gaze away. The way he stood there, leaning against the window; it made that feeling in the back of Ivory’s mind flare up again. A sigh was released, and he tried to bury the feeling again. Momentarily, he forgot about his hands, and his gaze became unfocused. It had been so long, and sometimes he felt as though what he going to mess something up and for it all to fall apart. If he let those feelings show, well… that would surely be a mistake.
“Hm?” He made the noise just after Max did, and he chuckled. “Yes, of course. Ah… yes, me and mother have been trying to let in fresh air a lot. Mm, it is just… I would like to go outside. Soon. It would be so wonderful, especially with you.” Letting out a sigh, his gaze drifted to the window, lingering on the lush trees and plants and flowers. “I have tried, a few times before,” he said, voice suddenly saddened, “to bring in a few plants or flowers in here. They always died. I think they never got enough sunlight. There is only one window in this room, after all. It would be… truly be wonderful to be surrounded by leaves and vines and flowers.” His voice became quiet, a little wistful.
"Perhaps I can ask around to see if we can get you some plants in here. We need to get a smile on that handsome face of yours. It's a disgrace to have you in a room with such a dim expression. I'll see to it the best I can."
There has to be some sort of plants that do not need much sunlight. He could bring some tulips and have them by the windowsill. It might be foolish to others, but perhaps having plants in here can help significantly. He knows that it will definitely put a smile on Ivy's face, and that's a wonderful start for them.
Speaking of the devil, better yet- angel, he felt his friend's eyes on him. He did not mind the lingering gaze. In fact, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He felt his face turning warm. Gazing over, he smiled, even as he noticed the sadness in his friend's face. Sadness yet there was some sort of yearning in the eyes.
"You know what, Ivy? I think I have an idea as to how to get that melancholic look off your beautiful face," Maximillian said. He walked over to the other side of the bed. Sitting down, he undid his shoes then laid back into the bed. Although he has done this thousands of times when they were children, he still hasn't gotten used to the sinking feeling of the bed everytime he did.
Turning his chin, he beamed, "Me."
His expression quirked strangely at the word “handsome.” In a strange way, it was another reminder of how long it had been. It seemed as though they had been just youths the last time Maximillian had called him that. Ivory had thought nothing of it then, it could not have meant that much. But now, they were men, and it felt different somehow. He could not pinpoint in what way.
A sad smile replaced whatever had come before. “Oh, you are too kind, friend. Heh, I did not realize this sadness would be so obvious.”
Rather indulgently of him, he had tried to put some of his favorite plants in his room, but many of them were high maintenance and so they would not last long. He had read of some plants that did not need as much sunlight, but oddly he did not think of how he could use that information for himself.
Ivy raised an eyebrow as Max came back. He laughed as his friend laid down on the bed, though deep within emotions swirled in him, tinting his own pale cheeks pink.
“Oh?” Immediately he went back to a teasing tone. “So now you think my melancholy is another part of this illness along with my apathy? And what will you do? You’ve already made me smile many times today.”
After adjusting some of the pillows, he laid back. His eyes scanned the room, imaging places where they could put plants that do not need much sunlight and water. Having a somewhat bleak room can worsen the mood. And yet, it wasn't the room his attention was focused on.
"Details such as that are only noticeable to those who have been watching intently from the start." His eyes widened as he titled his head, gazing at Ivory. No matter what, he just did not have the facilities to look away.
"Your melancholy might have been around longer than your illness. Maybe the same goes for the apathy. And I do not know what I will be doing. Maybe I will just lay here and sleep for a bit while expecting you to wravel in my presence. Maybe my presence will help make you feel better."
Maximillian smiled softly. He shifted closer to Ivory. "You know my dear, smiles to do not equate with content and true wellbeing. Yes, I have made you smile so much already, but have I made you truly content and well on an emotional level?"
Ivory pursed his lips in consideration. “Well, you are quite observant, Max. I suppose you have to be.” As he listened to his friend, he chuckled. “You, a doctor? Sleeping on the job? Max, I am so disappointed,” he kept teasing. “But of course, your presence does make me feel better. You don’t have to go to sleep to do that.”
His eyes were glued to him. His face, his smile, his voice. Ivory sighed, his teasing mood fading. He wanted to be honest and sincere to Max about this. Though he kept staring into him, he did not speak, trying to find the right words to say.
“I… I don’t know. You haven’t been here very long, have you?” His head tilted a little. “But I know, I remember feeling content. Before you left, that is. When… when Pearl was still here. And I’m so glad,” here, a nearly radiant smile spread on his face. “I’m so glad you’re here now, that you came back to me. It is… difficult to remember the last time I felt more content than I do right now.”
"I was forced to," He chuckled. It is true. Maximillian recalled all the times where Doctor Lomon would force him to observe random objects in order to pick out specific details. Now he does it for everything, even when he's not on the job. Is he right now? He isn't sure; it's like the lines are blurred now. "I know…I know…I am a terrible doctor, Ivy," He giggled. "Ah, then I will do my best to not sleep then. Shame on me for sleeping on this ever so comfortable bed with my beloved friend at my side."
Staring up at the ceiling, his hands rested on top of his chest. He could feel the fabric of his white long shirt along with the slight dampness from sweat. The furnace of his heartkept going as his mind wraveled in its thoughts. Heat clunged to his cheeks everytime he looked over at Ivory.
Resting on his side, he stared back at his friend. With his lip curled back, he shook his head. It has to be an hour or so since he had arrived. Maximillian glimpsed down at the sheets at the mention of Pearl and his leave. It's been years, yet he deeply regrets all of it still.
A few moments passed by until the melancholic, regretful mood had lightened up. Really all it took was to see Ivory beam for him to smile himself. "I am glad. I will do my best to not leave you again. I don't want to."
“So terrible,” He agreed, laughing with Maximillian. It was at this moment that Ivory thought about wrapping an arm around his friend, but he thought about it a little more and decided against it. He worried about moving too much and perhaps making things awkward. “Well, I would not blame you for going to sleep either. I almost want to sleep myself.”
Letting out a sigh, his beam seemed to dim slightly. He couldn’t help but notice Max’s somber look, and then regret bringing up the past. Well, he did want to be sincere, didn’t he? All the same, he wished he could have done so without bringing down the mood.
“I don’t want you to either,” Ivory murmured. “But I’m sure your work will take you to other locations.”
Almost absentmindedly, he brought his hand over to run through Max’s hair, setting it against his blond locks. But he stopped. His gaze drifted to his hand as he slowly lifted it again.
“Max…” his words were slow, like he wasn’t sure if he really believed what he was saying. “It seems that… my hands are paralyzed. They aren’t just numb; I can’t move them past the wrist.”
The mood in Ivory had shifted. While Max isn't sure how he can tell, he just knew it the moment his own mood changed. "Do not worry, Ivory. It's just, I still regret not being there for you when Pearl passed away. Not to mention I couldn't get letters to you," He admitted. "But do talk me, regardless of how I feel, okay?"
Max shrugged. "We'll see. I may be a traveling physician, but things happen, and changes follow after." In all honesty, whatever God brings to him at this point, he will follow. His mental exhaustion from all the years of endless studying and traveling with his mentor have finally caught up with him; he's embarrassed by it. He doesn't want to be like the men in the Royal medical society nor does he want to be like the doctors who use their own medicine and lose themselves to it.
"What?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. At first he thought it was the exhaustion messing with him, but the look on Ivory's face said otherwise. Maximillian sat up on the bed, taking ahold of Ivory's hand. "Now do not worry, we will take care of this. You said you felt something earlier too. Sometimes people recover from paralysis. Try to squeeze my hand as hard as you can."
So he couldn’t get letters to him. He regrets not being with him. Somehow, this struck the cord within Ivory that he thought should have been struck when Maximillian first arrived. He almost wept, but quickly blinked any moisture in his eyes away. “Oh. Um, yes…”
This has never happened before. At least, not to what Ivory can recall. It was always just the numbness, sometimes the pain of trying to move while limbs were numb or asleep, but it was never this. Perhaps Max really had turned his hands into stone. Despite this, Ivory felt no shock or surprise, no panic. There was something in the back of his mind, probably the part that hated the unknown and unexplained, that told him that he should be more worried about this. At least, to be worried enough to want to try and fix whatever was going on. But it, just like the rest of his mind, was covered in a blanket of resignation. He did not see the point of trying to fix it, nor did he really care. Something like hopelessness creeped in as well. He could not move his hands anymore, the end.
Max’s touch was strange. Ivory couldn’t feel it, not really. Though, again, it was like his hand was stone with poorly functioning nerves that could only feel the faint echoes of touch. Like he was touching his hand through layers upon layers of cement.
His gaze drifted up to Maximillian’s face. He looked so worried. Ivory started to feel bad. Didn’t they talk about this? Didn’t they have plans they wanted to do together? Why wasn’t he feeling the same way about this as Max was? If there was any point to fixing this, it was to make Max happy, it was to give Max hope. Ivory could not see the point in doing it for himself, so his dear friend was the next best thing.
“Alright. I’ll… I’ll try.” He looked down at his hand, clasped in Max’s. It was almost like chains formed around it the moment he tried gauging any capacity for feeling or movement that he could act on. A puzzled expression crossed over his face, and then he squeezed. Or at least, he certainly tried to. His brow knotted together. His hand managed a small twitch, but it was barely anything Ivory could feel or see.
(Ah thanks, I thought I had posted a response already)
Though the sudden change of Ivory not being able to move his hands had caught him off guard, he did his best to push his anxieties beside. He left his pipe at home due to all the rushing; part of him regrets it. Then also part of him regrets wrapping Ivory's hands. "I could remove those if that makes you feel comfortable. I thought it would help, but sometimes solutions do not fix problems."
Maximillian was not sure whether or not he saw the hand move. Even if it did, it was minimal and certainly not to the capacity of normal movement. He was afraid, this is out of his study and he does not want to go to other methods that fellow doctors prefer.
"Alright then. It is not the end of the world, rest assured. This could be temporary for all I know," He said. "And if it isn't, I will be by your side no worries. You really should be eating and drinking regardless. Even if it is just bread and some brandy, Ivory."
"You are trying, and I commend you for it," He added. Although Maximillian is a doctor of the physical body, he is concerned about Ivory both mentally and emotionally as well. Perhaps it is because of their friendship, or perhaps it is of the feelings that have lingered within in him for so long. Regardless, he has to keep his spirits up. He has to. He does not want to entertain any ideas that will make his beloved Ivy worry or panic.
(Lol ofc!)
“Perhaps,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug. “If you feel it would be best.”
Suddenly he felt very tired. Who knows, maybe he could sleep the paralysis off. Ivory almost chuckled with the thought. He shrugged again, but Maximillian’s tone made him look up. It almost shocked him with how worried his friend looked. Of course, he knew he was worried, but now it seemed much more pronounced. He was afraid. Ivory felt bad again. If only he was strong. He could have made more of an effort, right? It was just squeezing his hand, that was all. A heaviness seemed to settle in his soul, and he closed his eyes.
“I— yes, I should eat and drink. I will. But… I may have to have my servants feed me, and I do not know how I feel about that.” He sighed, briefly opening his eyes again, and staring at the book in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly.
His eyes flickered closed again. His hand was limp in Maximillian’s. Silence had stolen over him, but he didn’t fall asleep. There was something still nagging at him, and he wanted to change the subject, at least for now.
“Max?” He said, his voice still quiet but more clear. “Did you ever… did you ever get my letters? I sent you quite a few during those first few years, and then some birthday and Christmas ones… I stopped, though. I thought you were too busy to read them, or something like that.”
Maximillian prayed that Ivory would have the strength of Heracles and squeeze his hand hard enough to break it. At that point, he wouldn't even be mad if that happened. "I suppose that I could," He mumbled. His fingers lightly tugged at the wrappings, watching as they slowly came undone.
"If you feel awkward about it, I can help you. I wouldn't mind," He smiled. "I value your well-being above all else, and it is important that you eat." Strands of hair fell to the side of his face. The man shook his head. "No need to apologize, my dear Ivory. What would you have to apologize for in this moment? Everything is alright."
Maximillian held Ivory's hand up to his cheek for a moment then gently sat it down. He went over to his coat, pulling an envelope out of the breastpocket. "I had received them all, even as I traveled through the eastern parts of our continent, but I am afraid I lost most of them to floods back in Holland," He frowned at himself. Damn him, if only he had kept the little box in a higher place.
Trudging back to his previous spot, he sat down and held the letter out so ivory could read it. He used his other hand to hold Ivory's. "I managed to save this one though, and I have read it a million times as I will do a million times again. Even in the moments where I was busy, I did my best to find time to read them."
When he opened his eyes again, he quickly became fixed on Maximillian’s smile, then to the loosened wrappings. The heaviness was beginning to make his mind sluggish, but he ignored it.
“Ah, I do not know,” he said, chuckling softly and sadly. “It’s just… It’s been so long, and I must not be the same person I was all those years ago. I worry you, I can tell. I wish you didn’t have to, that you didn’t have to do all of this for me, even if it is your profession.” He sighed. “But it would be appreciated if you helped me. Being fed just feels… childish, is all.”
Ivory allowed a smile to show through as he felt Max’s cheek, just barely. For a moment, he forgot about his heavy mind as his brow raised slightly. “Floods? Oh dear, in that case I’m just glad that you were not lost with them.” His eyes turned to the letter, then down where his friend clasped his hand in his. For a moment his brow quirked a bit, but then he turned back to the letter, using his free hand to stiffly adjust his glasses.
The letter was from many years ago, and Ivory almost did not remember writing it. It soon came back to him as he read it, and he didn’t know whether to smile and laugh or cringe and look away. It’s contents were relatively normal; there didn’t seem to be a special occasion behind it. He had liked to give Max news of things going on back home, so there was a lot of that in the first half of it. Apparently a patch of hydrangeas in his garden had begun blooming at the time, and much of the letter was dedicated to it. He remembered; he had the seeds shipped to him from America and tried to replicate the right soil conditions, and he had been so excited when the first green shoots broke through. There was even a small diagram of the stem and leaves in the margins of the letter. Around halfway through, the subject turned to Max himself, asking about him and lamenting his absence. Ivory felt some strange sense of embarrassment here, for some reason, and he laughed awkwardly.
“I remember this,” he said. “It was so long ago… it’s nice to see it again.”
The gleam on his face dimmed. A gap formed between his lips as if he was going to interject with some words. Maximillian looked down at Ivory's hand before going back to staring at him.
"You are…You are…Ivory, you are the same person you were all those years ago and you are worth all the worry and so much more," He smiled. Is he making Ivory feel terrible right now? Is it because of his profession or is he too caring? He hoped that offering to help feed him did not come off as overbearing or being offensive. "I want to do all these things for you. You are not a burden and I am not doing all these things because of my occupation. I deeply care about you."
He laughed a little, shaking his head. It always floods in Holland. Another regret he has is not putting those letters in a safe place. Damn him for that. Thank God he kept the one in his pocket. "I do not think the floods would be able to take such a long man as me," He chuckled.
Maximillian rubbed Ivory's palm with his thumb. He brought his arm back to look at the letter himself. It was a bit wrinkly from it being folded and constantly in his breast pocket. He remembered laughing in happiness over the little diagrams over the margins. Or the times where he would sit at his desk with the candlelight illuminating the room.
He moved up a bit closer, showing Ivory the letter again. "Two years ago on April 13th. It makes me so happy every time I read it. I always imagined you beside me whenever I would read it. In all honesty, sometimes I read it more than my medical books."
Ivory met his dear friend’s gaze, and felt the corners of his lips curve upward, even as his eyebrows curved upward too. “Thank you, Maximillian. I… I needed to hear that.” His lips stayed curved, but they quivered slightly. “God. I have missed you so dearly.”
Tension and emotion rose behind his eyes, but it was forgotten as soon as Max spoke again. He laughed. “Oh, you are right. But you are so long that even if they did take you, you would simply float like a long stick, eh?” He was tempted to laugh more, but was afraid of moving too much, so he calmed himself quickly.
Ivory’s gaze stayed on him as Maximillian looked closer at the letter. Watching as his light eyelashes flickered when his eyes moved their gaze across the page, or his still, soft-looking lips. He could not quite feel the thumb rubbing against his hand, but when he noticed it, his gaze softened. That urge in the back of his mind threatened to rear its head again. He wanted to lean against Max as he moved closer, but he did not. He could not. He tore his gaze from him and back to the letter.
Cheeks tinted pink, he said, “More than your medical books? Oh Max, I knew it, you are a terrible doctor!” He chortled again, briefly.
What is in a name? Sure there are meanings and significances, yet on the contrary, Max believes that sometimes it's the way people say names that makes them so special. In the past, when Ivory would say his name, his heart leaped. Still does. Yet now, he has to bite the inside of his cheek in order to fight back the tears.
"Do not mention it….A pleasure as always, Ivory," He grinned. A soft exhale eased through him. His smile stayed put, even as he continued to fight the inner turmoil called his emotions. He kept rubbing Ivory's palm as he stifled a chuckle. "I am sure of it. Pirates in the Caribbean would mistaken me for a plank and walk on me too."
He held his finger up to his lips as he hushed. With squinted eyes, he leaned toward Ivory. "If you speak up any louder, they will know my secrets," He whispered. It wasn't long until he went into a fit of giggling crescendoing to laughter. "Oh it is alright, but it is the truth. There were days where I lost hope and felt like I wasn't fit for the path God laid out in front of me….But your letter…well letters….all it took was just one moment to read them, and I got everything back once again."
Maximillian gazed down at the paper. He gently folded it up and returned it back to the pocket it was in before. "I wish I could give you something in return for all you have written. I should have thought to brought some of the letters I kept because I couldn't post them," He shook his head. "And now I regret not picking up any herbs or flowers while traveling too."
Ivory’s eyes stayed fixed on his friend, basking in his grin and grinning back. “Yes, the Atlantic would have hardened you like wood and stone by then.”
He did not even notice when Maximillian leaned in, but his grin widened when he was hushed. It was as if he was a young boy again. He helplessly laughed along with Max like a young boy too. His unmoving hands were honestly forgotten by now, even as Max kept rubbing them.
After having to take in a breath and relax himself, he said, “I am truly glad they were able to that for you. I did not know how you were doing, I just wanted to talk to you… so it’s good to hear this now, after all this time.”
As Ivy watched him put the letter back in its place, a frown slowly replaced the grin. “Max…” It was now that he wished he could use his hands to rub his friend’s in return, or to put on his shoulder. Instead he leaned back towards him, and tilted his head. “Listen to me, please. I don’t want you to live regretting this. I do not blame you for anything, nothing at all. All I care about is that you are here with me now, and that we are finally able to make up for lost time.” He allowed a small smile to grow. “But, if you wanted, I wouldn’t mind if you gave me some embroidered cloth in exchange for the letters. You are quite talented, indeed.”
"Oh Ivory," He laughed. A few strands of hair fell out as he had shook his head. Returning back to massaging Ivory's hands, he tilted his chin downwards. Though foolishly, he hoped for feeling to return to the hands.
Maximillian moved his gaze to his friend's face when he spoke again. All he was able to do at the moment was sigh and lightly grin as he listened. Even when Ivory didn't speak, Max still stared at him. For whatever reason why, his heart became light as it kept on beating.
The whole time, as Ivory spoke, he did not move a single muscle, let alone breathe a single breath of air. His eyes flickered from Ivory's eyes and then to his lips. In the back of Maximillian's mind, he was asking for not having forgiveness and to forget the matter plaguing his mind, but he just smiled.
"I will give you those embroidered cloths. I will. I will, but I want to give you more. I feel the need to…to give you more than just embroidered cloths. You mean so much to me, Ivory." He pressed his lips together as if he was in a sense of confusion and deep thought. Was is he to say? What words are worth of Ivory's ears?
Yet he could not find such words. Maximillian gazed down at the covers. His Adam's apple bobbed lightly. Instead of talking, he went back to focusing on his friend's hands. With care, he held the left one up to lightly press against his own cheek. His lips just barely brushed against the side.
He removed then gently placed the hand down. "You know I will deeply regret stepping on a spider for a few days," He tried to joke. "But it is more than just the fact I didn't write you back, although I will do my best to not live with regret because of that. I won’t, please do believe me."
He took in a deep breath, his gaze falling to their hands again. Ivory watched them with a faint smile, shaking his head slightly.
“I already live in wealth and luxury,” he shrugged. “What more could I be given? What more could I ask for, especially from you? Your presence is already priceless, dear friend.” He looked back up to Maximillian, watching as he brought Ivory’s hands up to his cheek. Something made his own cheeks tint pink, and his smile widened a little. Yet, it was sad. He could barely feel warmth and softness of Max’s skin. If only he could feel it again, especially now.
Letting out a sigh, he kept his gaze on Max. It doesn’t matter. Even if he had to rely on others to feed him and such, maybe it would go away on its own. He shook his head, chuckling a little.
“You better not. But I understand. You mean so much to me too, and I missed you dearly…” he looked down at their hands again. “Heh. I should be the one to give you things. I could give you nearly anything you desired.”
